


Reverse Fraction

by SunAndMoon (LadyMorgaine)



Series: Seventeen AUs [4]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Video Game World, Chronic Illness, M/M, Major Illness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2020-07-19 13:34:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 68,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19974913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyMorgaine/pseuds/SunAndMoon
Summary: Waking up should not be as disconcerting as it is for Choi Seungcheol. The night before, he must have gone to sleep after gaming for a few hours, right? It's beyond him why he wakes up in a different world, one that looks just like the graphics of his favourite game, dressed in exactly the kind of clothes his avatar should have had on.Alternate Title: Thirteen pretty normal guys land their asses in a game and try to cope.





	1. Arc 1: Awakening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is obviously based on the anime Log Horizon, which is about the Elder Tale game, although I had to change a few things to make it fit. It's in Korea, not in Japan, and the characters are Korean as well, except for the odd reference I can't avoid. I'll try my best to update you on the changes as much as I can, but it's inevitable that some MMORPG terms will slip in, and the circumstances will not be exactly as in the anime...
> 
> This story will update extremely slowly as I'm writing it in between trying to finish other stories, but I hope it's still something people might like.

“Where were you when it happened?”

“I don’t know! I can’t remember…”

“Really? I can’t either, but…”

“…do you think we were at home?”

“I don’t know, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I can’t tell you.”

Seungcheol couldn’t remember what he had been doing when it happened either. One moment the server was still patching, and he was watching the countdown like a hawk. The Japanese server had patched an hour ago and there had been some problems, but…

…but he had logged in? He was sure he had logged in.

He carefully looked down at himself, then around. His fingers trembled in the ebony gauntlets; it felt as if his heart wanted to beat out of his chest as he saw that he was fully clad in the Einherjar armour he had won just last week. He could see it, feel it, touch it… scratch that, he could _smell_ it, something that had never happened before. Being in the game had never happened before either, no matter how much he had wished it. There was grass underneath him and the remnants of a thunderstorm in the air, rendering it muggy and hot. There was… there was…

There was a voice in his head.

_::Seungcheol! Seungcheol, can you hear me?::_

He nearly wet himself with shock, which would have been a terrible thing in armour. It was Joshua’s voice, really in his head, not just programmatically as he had experienced before. The Summoner definitely didn’t sound his normal gentle self; hell, he sounded as shocked as Seungcheol felt.

How does one even speak in their head?

_::…Joshua?::_ It felt so strange, like a loud thought, but something in him clicked as if it had always done this. One hand lifted to ward light from shining in his eyes, and a menu appeared in front of his face. Ornate, golden, listing his stats an inventory, making his eyebrows arch.

**Name: Choi Seungcheol**

**Class: Guardian**

**Spec: Juggernaut**

**HP: 10001**

**MP: 4918**

**Level: 87**

_::Oh thank you sweet baby Jesus, are you okay? Where are you? Still where you logged out last night?::_

_::I am… have you been able to reach anyone else?::_ With a miserable feeling Seungcheol tapped his friends list, wincing at the number of greyed-out names, hoping against hope…

He sat down, exhaling hugely, when he saw the names of his guild all in green.

_::I’ve been able to reach Jihoon and I woke up next to Minghao, we’re at that weapons shop we normally go to… I’m still working on the others, I’ve no idea where Wonwoo and Seungkwan ran off to. I…::_

“Leader.”

A voice pulled Seungcheol out of his reverie, and he blinked up at a tall Ritian in front of him, the tallest, thinnest one he had ever seen. Black hair, a golden symbol on his forehead and imperious, cool blue eyes. Confused, he made for his feet again, leaning away from the bottle it was holding out to him.

_::Jisoo, hold on a bit, there’s someone here…::_ Firming his jaw, he looked him over again, from the tips of spiky black hair to the massive staff he had slung across his shoulders. “Do I know you?”

The man rolled his eyes but nodded, pulling him his stats as well.

**Name: Jeon Wonwoo**

**Class: Cleric**

**Spec: High Healer**

There was nothing beyond that, not that he expected it, but it made him boggle at the tall, _tall_ man. “What the hell?” he got out. “The last time I saw you, you were barely up to my chest. Did you drink a growth potion, Wonwoo-ya?”

Wonwoo rolled his eyes again. “This is what I normally look like, barring the eyes and the runes on my body,” he said softly, voice much deeper than normal. “I’ve only been awake for a few moments, but it felt odd, so I went for an appearance reset potion. At least my limbs feel the correct length now. Here, I kept all the ones we originally got. This is yours.”

Seungcheol blinked again, looking down at the small bottle.

“You’ll feel less strange afterwards,” Wonwoo added. “We can’t be loitering around here. There’s trouble, and the longer it lasts the weirder it’ll feel.”

Seungcheol had no issue believing that their Cleric could feel the need for adjustment immediately. For whatever reason, he spent the majority of his time online in the game, and they had built up trust over the last year of raiding together. Shrugging, he took the potion and popped off the cork, slugging it down. _::I found Wonwoo, he’s here with me. Just keep the others there, we’ll come to the shop.::_

His body felt odd, malleable for a second, before he became aware that the armour was resizing to him, not to mention the massive sword across his back; he stretched and turned until his back popped. “I told Jisoo we’d meet him at the weapon shop we frequent. I… what?”

Wonwoo’s mouth twitched into a small smile. “Just didn’t think I’d be taller than you,” he murmured, and turned so that they could stroll away.

Seungcheol was the one to roll his eyes this time, falling into step next to his cleric. “What’s the trouble?” he asked, before eyebrows arched the next moments. “And why is that staff on your back only giving me a row of question marks when I try to spec it?”

Hastening his steps, Wonwoo cast a quick look his way. “It’s Sacrament-class,” he explained. “It was attached to my account when I woke up, and it refuses to be unequipped. All that came with it was a note saying ‘You won.’ I don’t know what I won, or who I won it from, but the name I get is _Gesshoku_ , so I think it’s a new item from the Japanese server.” He took a deep breath, breathing out on a small cough. “And the trouble is I can’t find Seungkwan-ah and my map seems to be gone?”

Seungcheol felt each fact like a body blow, grimacing at the end of it. “Let’s get to the weapon shop,” he said tightly. “It’ll be better to have everyone around.”

Fifteen minutes later, ensconced in one of the back rooms of the Magnolia Forest Arms and Armour, they huddled around the table.

“This is like one of those racial jokes,” the shortest of them said. “A Wolf Fang, a Human and a Ritian walk into a bar…”

Seungcheol felt his back teeth want to start grinding. “Not now, Jihoon-ah,” he murmured. Sitting back, trying not to feel emasculated because he was sipping water, he looked over his little guild. What was left of it in any case. “So it looks like we’re the only members of Crimson Crescent barring Seungkwan-ah…” He felt silent at the cleared throat from their Chinese member.

“Titan’s Snap,” Minghao reminded gently, and received a high-five of approval from Jihoon.

“Oh, come on, seriously…” Seungcheol began.

Jisoo smiled slightly. “You did lose in that contest,” he reminded gently.

Seungcheol grimaced. “ _Fine_ ,” he got out. “Titan’s Snap. It looks like we’re the only members here in Seoul. The sooner we find Seungkwan-ah and find out what happened, the better. My friends list is decimated, I don’t think there’s more than ten percent online on there. Have you checked all your weapons and armour and skills?”

Minghao nodded. “Still the same,” he confirmed. “I was able to gank a boar outside the city by sheer brute force. Most everyone is wandering around like lost sheep though, and I’ve not been able to raise anyone on my home server. I’ve not even been able to go through the Gate to Beijing. If you ignore the way we’re actually in the game, it seems pretty much the same… beyond how everyone is walking around looking like they lost their lives.”

“They have,” Jisoo said gently. “As far as we know.”

Jihoon sat forward. “My stuff is more or less the same too,” he muttered. “But… well… look. Channie’s on the server too, and I’ve not seen him so far, and he’s not answering my calls either.”

Wonwoo frowned. “Channie… is he that Samurai you party up with sometime? The one that you said was a hard carry?”

“Yeah,” Jihoon agreed. “Because he’s my little _dongsaeng_.”

Silence fell as they sat absorbing that.

“Your _dongsaeng_?” Minghao finally asked. “I’m your _dongsaeng_ too, what’s the issue?”

Jihoon squeezed his eyes shut. “No, he’s really my dongsaeng. Like… born to the same mother and father? He’s about three years younger than I am… 99-line. And he’s not answering, which means he’s being stubborn or far away, I don’t know which one. He had a habit of playing on the Japanese server, so thank goodness he didn’t get trapped there.”

Seungcheol took a deep breath. “Okay. Seungkwan-ah and Chan-ssi, then…”

“Hang on,” Jisoo interrupted, staring down at his lap. “I’ve got an idea. Wonwoo-ya, you said your map was blanked out?”

Wonwoo nodded. “I can’t get the minimap to appear.”

Jisoo frowned. “Nor me, but that’s where it gets strange. I don’t have the town map, but remember that map of all the jjimjilbang I once won in the Agate Island event?” He looked up at them, soft eyes large. “It’s still here on some kind of HUD. I was trying to call it up to see if I could see anything on the country map, and I noticed the names on there. Maybe it’s a mod thing?”

Wonwoo shot him one look before he scrambled out and went running outside, leaving them behind.

“…maybe he really wanted to go to get a bath?” Jihoon said sulkily. “Lanky, intelligent bastard… hey, I wonder if my DPS is still the same?”

“Can’t be,” Minghao said promptly. “You’re like a kid right now.”

Seungcheol pinched his eyes shut and started praying for guidance as the fight started.

It was still going when Wonwoo returned with a veritable armful of maps, but it was silenced neatly as he tossed them on the table, pulled more out of his inventory and promptly swayed, coughing like the blazes.

Seungcheol slowly slid his water over. “You went to buy maps?” he asked quizzically. “Why?”

Guzzling half the cup of water, Wonwoo took a deep breath. “Jisoo’s map is still there.” He paused to look at them. “Don’t you get it? Jisoo’s map, which is an actual item, is still there. We’ve always been too lazy to buy them, they were meant for Landers and noobs anyway. In-game mapping was far more superior. But now…”

Jisoo was the first to catch on. “But now, it might be that these are the only way to tell where you’re going, unless you have a Cartographer as a friend, and you’ve not drawn one in way too long.”

Wonwoo nodded furiously. “I cleaned out the shop of every kind of map he had, the highest quality he had. He was arguing with his wife, so I got a good price too. I just didn’t have space for extra supplies.”

Jihoon frowned. “The dude was arguing with his wife?” he questioned. “Since when?”

“Does it matter? Someone try and load a map!”

Seungcheol looked around their little circle, shrugged and sorted through the pile, picking up the first town map he saw. He opened it slowly, but it wasn’t even half-open before it fuzzed out of being, disappearing into mist. In front of his eyes, hovering like a map on a HUD, lines and names appeared, bringing up the familiar districts and shops and landmarks he had always known. “Map off,” he said with fascination.

It disappeared, then returned to a ‘Map on’. “It’s working,” he breathed. “Quick, sort them and learn them.”

The group dove into the maps, and barely a few moments later Jisoo gave a cry of relief. “Daejeon, he’s in Daejeon!”

Wonwoo breathed out a slow sigh of relief. “Can you try and contact him again now that you know?” he asked.

Jisoo promptly closed his eyes and concentrated.

Seungcheol, watching him, felt almost as if he could feel that attempt like a wave in his mind, lapping out further and further and further…

_::..ng hyung hyung hyung HYUNG!::_

From the look on their faces, everyone heard that.

“Got him,” Jisoo said smugly. “Took me a while to find the party channel, I added you in.”

_Seungcheol:: Kwannie? Is that you?_

_Seungkwan:: Hyung! Oh thank sweet fuck, I’ve been calling for ages! Where have you been?_

_Jisoo:: Language!_

_Seungkwan:: Hyung I don’t care about language right now, I’m trapped in fucking Daejeon! Can you guys come and get me? I’m trapped in the Tombs of Time dungeon with a bunch of casuals, hyung, you should see them, they’re … really casual!_

_Jihoon:: How did you get there, Seungkwan-ah? The Tombs of Time is only level 80, you should be waltzing through there._

_Seungkwan:: I don’t know, hyung, everything’s messed up! The bosses aren’t the same, the mechanics are messed up and every time we make a run for it we get killed and spawn back in the beginning of the level! Beyond one guy there’s no one that’s above level 80! I’ve lost all my money already respawning… and the ‘Call to Home’ spell isn’t working! And I didn’t just want to leave them here…”_

“Daejeon,” Seungcheol said out loud. “We can make that in a day if we go griffin-backed.”

_Minghao:: Why were you doing hard carry for casuals?_

_Jisoo:: Are they part of a guild? Can their guild mates maybe get them out?_

_Seungkwan:: I don’t know, I can’t remember why I’m in here! I’m just… in here! With them!_

_Seungcheol:: Kwannie, concentrate. Do they have other guild members that they can call to help them? We can get to you in a day, can they get you out faster?_

_Seungkwan:: Sorry hyung… Jisoo-hyung. I asked, this is all they have in their guild, they say they’re just a bunch of friends hanging together? They’re some kind of weird support guild. Atelier Destiny or something._

Jihoon’s eyes bulged out and he sat straighter from where he was going through his spell list on the sly.

_Jihoon:: Atelier Destiny? Seungkwan-ah, is there a Bard with them, name of Lee Seokmin? Hell, I can’t remember what his in-game name was but he’s got a nose almost like a swordfish and…_

_Seungkwan:: Hyung, how did you know? Everyone’s looking at me like I’m an oracle now… is he family?_

_Jihoon:: He’s a cousin. Mother’s sister’s child. Shit, I didn’t even thing to check his name. Ask him if he’s heard from Channie._

_Seungkwan:: Hyung?_

_Jihoon:: Just ask._

_Seungkwan:: Hyung, he says no, but last he heard of him he was down in Busan doing the Tide King’s Palace._

Around the table eyes slammed open and the small group stared worriedly at each other. The Tide King’s Palace wasn’t a popular dungeon, nor was it extremely high-level, though it had some of the best weapon skin drops in the game. The place was too labyrinthine, too complicated… enough to put off most Adventurers despite the rumours of a phantasmal-class weapon hidden somewhere in it. There was only one recorded clear for it, a guild somewhere in Oceania; beyond them, no one had even cleared the second level.

_Seungkwan:: Hyung. The guy in charge on this side, he’s a Hwarang, right? He says if you rescue us, they’ll go with us to Busan. He says they really need to get out of here because their Monk is having real problems with his legs, and he’s a Kicker…_

“We have to,” Jisoo said softly. “We need to rescue Seungkwan anyway, and it’d be nice to have a guild owing us, even if they’re lower-level. They might not stay lower-level.”

Seungcheol, looking at the other three, received a round of nods.

_Seungcheol:: Sit tight, Kwannie, we’re coming. We’ll be there in a day and fight our way down._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   1. First things first, the Korean server got the update too. This is more in line with the way that MMO servers actually patch than in the story, and in-game there's a reason for it that will be unveiled as things go on. 
>   2. Titan's Snap is a small but highly respected raiding guild. Most if not all of the players were on or near level cap. 
>   3. Most met up as players initially, were in a PUG together once and decided to stick around. 
>   4. Amusingly enough, the guild was renamed recently when Seungcheol lost a bet with Jihoon, who named it after Thanos’ infamous snap in the Marvel movie. Before that it was known as Crimson Crescent. 
>   5. Tank: Seungcheol 
>   6. DPS: Jihoon, Minghao 
>   7. Support: Wonwoo, Seungkwan, Jisoo 
>   8. There will be romance and pairings later on, but at first they'll just try and work together. 
> 



	2. Arc 1: Hard Carry

The flight to Daejeon was as quick as they had hoped, though they skipped the main city and circled around it to the park that Gyeryongsan National Park would have been in real life. In the game it looked much as it always did, littered with dense forest and mist, said to be the last breath of a giant who had died on the spot. The Tombs of Time was in the middle of it, in a dip of valley marked only by a pair of monuments, and all of them felt the chill in their bones as they dismounted and dismissed their griffins.

“Minghao-ya,” Seungcheol said softly. “You’re the best scout we have. Take the front and call back if you see anything strange. The others, Battle formation B.”

Nodding, the group fell into the well-practiced stance of many hours of dungeon trips: Seungcheol second from the front, between whatever danger their tracker might stir up and the rest of the party, Jihoon just to his side, and Wonwoo and Jisoo bringing up the rear. Passing through the crumbly entrance of the place, they ventured down the long corridor that sunk into the depths.

The longer they walked, the more depressing the place seemed to become; there were small fights aplenty, but nothing that drove them past the point of having to heal up too much. About two levels down the corridor changed appearance to something insectile, curving oddly, and a strange, heavy amber musk filled the air. There was give to the floor, a slight sponginess that made walking uncomfortable, and Seungcheol was halfway to ordering a stop when Minghao flashed back.

“There’s a new boss,” he muttered as they huddled. “Some kind of insect popping out egg larvae? Pools of a weird goop on the floor, like honey but it stinks like acid. The exit’s on the other side from what I can see, but it’s walled off behind a layer of wax in the middle of the… nest situation going on.”

“Jisoo? What does Seungkwan say?” Seungcheol asked. “They must have come through here, right?”

The summoner nodded. “Straightforward fight from what I’m hearing. The only curve ball is the maggots the main boss is popping out. He says not to let them get to the acid pools or they mutate and become a lot tougher. It gave them a little trouble initially, but apparently their Medium is quite good at what he does? They’d come and get us, but their Monk collapsed. He’s complaining he can’t walk. Otherwise apparently a straight tank-and-spank, especially as we’re higher-level.”

Seungcheol nodded thoughtfully and hauled Angel’s Bane off his shoulder. “Alright then. Tank and spank.”

Five minutes later, boss properly spanked and entrance to the next level melted, they stood for a moment to recover. Jihoon was holding up a large bug leg with a grimace, Jisoo had gotten a light butterfly-like cloak that made him see like an insect and Seungcheol… well, he had gotten gold and goop all over himself from the queen exploding from that last blow. Grimacing, he tried to scrape his face and hair clean, only for it to stand up in a coif.

“Hmm,” Wonwoo said with the patience of one that didn’t have to get bug guts all over him. “This is fascinating, it’s like the loot table mechanics might have been changed. I can’t tell if Seungcheol-hyung didn’t get the leg because of bad rolls, or because they liked Jisoo-hyung and Jihoon-ah. Regardless, this is pretty shitty loot, even if you consider that we are perhaps ten levels above this dungeon.” He paused. “Jihoon-ah, can you stand a little further away? You smell like bug guts.”

Jihoon tried to smile, but it was a struggle. “There are so many places I can stick this leg,” he tried to threaten their Assassin. “Minghao, you _bastard_ , you purposefully aimed that for us!”

Minghao, the only one beside Wonwoo to be clean, if only because the insect exploded away from his finishing blow, gave him a stunning, insincere little smile. “Ritians know the value of cleanliness, you know?” he murmured as he snuck through the hole melted in the wax.

Jihoon made a gargling sound and made to run after him, wielding his impromptu weapon.

Seungcheol spat discreetly to the side before snagging Jihoon by the collar of his (very messy) robes. “Enough,” he said wearily. “Keep it for the rest of the dungeon.”

They forged forward, getting back into the normal ‘Tomb’ quarters soon enough, and fought their way down to the third level. Two turns after the last boss, a ghost lord of some sort, they spotted a hand waving at them from what looked like a wall. Seungcheol led the way in, passing through the illusion into the resting room beyond. Each dungeon, especially raids, had something like it, a nook where Adventurers could hole up to catch their breath.

He had barely passed through before Seungkwan threw his arms around him and hugged for all he was worth, only to stagger back seconds later, grimacing at the slime on his robes and the musky, unpleasant odour.

The two parties stood there, grimacing uneasily at each other. Finally, unable to bear the stench of his armour Seungcheol simply started removing it, leaning Angel’s Bane against the wall.

“Oya,” the blonde in the far corner drawled. “Rescue _and_ a show, aren’t we lucky?”

Seungkwan jumped in before Jihoon’s eyes could do more than threaten to flame. “Hyung, these are Jeonghan-ssi, Junhui-ssi, Soonyoung-ssi, Mingyu-ssi and Hansol-ssi,” he rushed to explain. “You know Seokmin-ssi?”

Seungcheol nodded tightly, not because he was irritated, but because the goop was drying to a hard shellac. “Seokmin-ah… good to see you’re okay.” His eyes travelled from him to the monk that lay sweating in a corner, the one Seungkwan had introduced as Soonyoung. A fucking _tiger_ feline from what he could see, dressed in monk’s robes, with what looked like white bone strapped onto his shins and feet. “Wonwoo, can you see if you can help? If the leader… ah, Jeonghan-ssi? If you are ok with that.”

The blonde sighed and nodded as he stood, tugging his impeccable Hwarang hanbok straight – even after this much of a dungeon he looked unfairly pretty and put-together. “Please,” he said, nodding to Wonwoo. “We’re at our wits’ end, and with him out of the picture we simply don’t have enough DPS or aggro handling to break through. The boss heals faster than we can take him out. We have some crafters – Jun-ah and Hansol-ah can look at your weapons. Mingyu… can you make us some food?”

The tallest man of the lot stood, looking worn-down but with a staff larger than he was, what looked like a branch of the legendary Yggdrasil. “Can I have the leg, please?” he asked Jihoon, who had been dragging it along if only to threaten Minghao with it.

Jihoon wrinkled his nose. “Okay, the regular food already tastes like shit, I don’t even know how you’re going to make it palatable, but knock yourself out,” he mumbled.

“This is Jisoo, Wonwoo over there is our healer, and Jihoon and Minghao are our damage specialists,” Seungcheol introduced.

Jeonghan nodded to each. “If you have an easy method of getting water, you’ll want to wash that stuff off as soon as possible off your gear. Most of our stuff is already out of commission; it doesn’t look like much, but the next fight has a mechanism that hardens it until it feels like solid rock. It’s some kind of spectral wave and it’s nasty. I lost most of my good gear that way; Hansol-ah’s been able to chisel some of the stuff out, but it’s going to take a while, according to him.”

Seungcheol tilted his head. “Are you your group’s strategist?”

Jeonghan’s expression pulled into a tired frown. “Dude, we’re just a casual party of friends teaming up together. We don’t have strategists or tacticians; we don’t even have a dedicated tank now that Soonyoung’s taken out of action. Honestly, if it hadn’t been for our supports and healer, we’d not even have made it this far down.”

“It’s true, hyung,” Seungkwan said earnestly. “This is nothing like the old Tome of Time dungeon, it’s like they took some weird insect hovel and copy-pasted it over the boring bits. The next boss should have been the Lady of Pain, you know? But she’s not there, it’s some old spirit casting this weird attack from a book that makes the room get all misty, and if you don’t knock him down a significant portion of health he heals back up from the souls of the dead and we just die over and over again. I lost… maybe about fifteen thousand gold already?”

Jisoo made his way to Seungcheol’s side, lips pressed together. “It’s okay,” he said to Jeonghan. “We’ll get you guys out of here and to Busan… any new dungeon’s bound to drop some good loot, so you can sell that if you don’t have money left. We’ve got enough, so we can drop out of the loot rolls and just support you. Besides, I’m a Summoner. There’s an Undine I know, she’ll be able to give us fresh water at least so that we can sit and plan this out.”

Jeonghan looked doubtfully from him to Seungcheol.

Seungkwan, biting his lip, looked at Seungcheol with an expression like a puppy dog.

Seungcheol gave a long-suffering sigh and nodded, trying a smile. “Just help us locate Chan as well and we’ll call it even,” he said, holding out his hand to Jeonghan to shake. “And I…”

“Oh sweet Jesus, what is that smell?” Jihoon interrupted, stomping forward from the corner he had been cleaning the gunk out of his hair with what looked like the Summoning Robe of Princess Eunji.

“Ah,” Jeonghan brightened, reaching to shake Seungcheol’s hand. “Well, we _did_ make a small discovery down here…”

An hour later, cleaned and sat around a fire that Jihoon had started for them, Seungcheol stared down at the bowl passed his way. The stew looked amazing and smelled even better; the last they had tried food on the way down here it had been bland like unsalted rice porridge. This tasted even better than it smelled, even if a part of him already knew that it came from an insect. “…I still don’t understand,” he said faintly. “These taste better than the doenjang-jjigae from my favourite place in Hongdae.”

Jihoon wolfed down his last bite of rice. “If you’re complaining, hand them over here,” he muttered, making grabby hands.

Seungcheol held his bowl out of reach, fighting not to growl. “Back off,” he advised. “Mine.”

The cook, Mingyu of the extremely tall body, gave them a happy smile across the fire. “Insects can be very high in protein,” he explained. “And I really like eating, I love it so much, but all my stored ramen was gone and everything from the menu was just off, so I thought what could it hurt to try? The peppers I had still tasted and smelled normal, so one chance later… besides, I’m a Chef, that’s my subclass, and I’m part of the culinary studies club at school, and our TA from overseas is hardcore into non-animal protein…”

Seokmin nodded. “It’s where we all met, hyung,” he murmured. “We all study at the same college, and we just got into the habit of partying together? It was just supposed to be a fun thing.”

“Seungcheol-hyung,” Wonwoo called from the unconscious Monk’s side. “Come over here for a second.”

Giving Jihoon a glare, Seungcheol put his plate on Seungkwan’s lap and scooted over.

Wonwoo had taken the Monk’s armour off and was examining his legs. They looked… well, they looked _strange_ , as if they had suddenly decided not to be straight any longer. “It’s like I suspected,” his healer said softly. “His body is starting to rebel from the fight in his mind and the fight in his body on what a two-legged werecat should be walking like. Felines normally have digitigrade legs, you know? And I think it’s worse for him because he’s a Kicker, because they’re literally what he depends on to be effective. Jeonghan-ssi?”

Jeonghan scooted closer to them as Seungcheol frowned. “Digitigrade?” he questioned, trying not to sound dumb.

Wonwoo took a deep breath. “It’s a characteristic for how some animals walk. They walk on their toes, or digits. Humans are plantigrade. So what felines consider a foot is only their toes, and their ankles are much higher up their legs, what we think of as knees.” He spared a glance for Jeonghan. “He’s good, right? Does Soonyoung-ssi have any actual martial arts training?”

Jeonghan looked at him with a little frown. “He’s the best fighter in our party,” he said softly. “And yes, he’s part of the martial arts club at college… I don’t know how good he is though, hold on?” Tilting his head back, he looked to the people around the fire. “Junnie?” he called. “Soonyoung-ah is a martial artist with you, right? Is he good?”

“He’s very good,” the one introduced as Junhui called back. “He’s third dan in the international Taekwondo ratings; he was considered to be a real contender for the regional team this year. He was still telling me about his dance coach and his sports coach complaining and fighting over who gets more practice time. But yeah, he’s an assistant instructor at the club.”

Seungcheol whistled. He had taken Taekwondo as well, but only until the first dan rank. “Is that bad?” he muttered to Wonwoo, who had a worried frown.

“He lives very close to his body,” Wonwoo explained softly to Jeonghan and himself. “Just like… I have to pay close attention to my body as well, albeit for different reasons. I know how it really should feel, how it should move, etcetera. Our brains are… are in effect being forced to become closer to our bodies. Players of opposite genders might be experiencing problems too, as well as the beast races, like the werecats and the wolf fangs and so on. It’s one thing to play one. It’s another to be one. It’s why I asked you to take the potion right off the bat. All of us, in fact.”

Jeonghan frowned. “Potion? What potion? There’s a cure for this?”

Wonwoo shook his head. “It’s not a cure, just a… a correction if you will. It’s a simple Appearance Reset potion, but it’s not something I can force down his throat. I can’t make that decision for him. It will reset people to whatever the closest human appearance is that they can, even though it doesn’t reassign race, so to speak. He might have some quirks, like I still have runes on my body, but it should correct his leg issue. It’s just… I know what it’s like to be forced to take medicine, to have other people decide what’s best for your body. I literally can’t give him this. He’ll have to make the decision, or you will as his guild leader.”

Seungcheol sank back on his haunches, considering his healer’s words. It smacked of personal history, of old wounds, not something to be raked over in front of strangers. He pressed his lips tightly shut for a moment. “Do you still have any?”

Instead of answering, Wonwoo reached into his inventory and hauled out another potion. “The last one,” he said, handing it over to Jeonghan. Standing in a flurry of creaky knees and robes, he made for the fire and sank down there.

Jeonghan frowned down at the potion. “I don’t know what to do,” he admitted softly. “I mean, he’s not called the Tiger of Namyangju for nothing, he _likes_ being this character. But on the other hand, its hurting him so much, and I don’t… I don’t… this was supposed to be _casual_. It was supposed to be _a game_. I couldn’t even get my guild out of a dungeon.”

“Being a guild leader is tough,” Seungcheol commiserated softly. “and I think it’ll be tougher as we try and figure out what happened.” He reached to clap the blonde on the shoulder. “But we’re the older ones around here, so they are going to depend on us. I honestly don’t think there’s much of a choice in this situation.”

Jeonghan grimaced but nodded and leant forward to administer the potion. It took the two of them to fight Soonyoung’s jaw open, but administer it they did, and afterwards Jeonghan covered him with a couple of cloaks before the two went to the fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   1. ‘Noob guild’ – very relaxed, very casual. More of a support guild than anything else. 
>   2. All members know each other through school/college 
>   3. Lee Seokmin is Jihoon and Chan’s cousin 
>   4. Little experience with bigger contents like raids as it’s not really a balanced party and no one is that competitive outside of Soonyoung 
>   5. Tank: Soonyoung 
>   6. DPS: Jeonghan, Junhui – odd system since neither are really first-line DPS, but they work together quite well. 
>   7. Support/Magic: Seokmin, Mingyu, Hansol 
> 



	3. Arc 1: Getting To Know You

“ _Hyungdeul_ ,” Seokmin said as they rejoined them. “I’ve looked at your armour and mended what I could, and Hansol-ah did the same for the weapons…”

Minghao, who had been sitting next to Junhui quietly getting caught up in Mandarin, looked up and nodded. “A good standard of work,” he said softly. “Better than the weapon shop we normally frequent.”

Seungcheol blinked, impressed. Minghao was known for being highly meticulous, especially about his weaponry since that was his bread and butter in coaxing the high damage numbers out of his skills and attacks. “That’s quite good…”

“He made his own weapon!” Seokmin said happily, looking proudly at the black-haired boy still working on what looked like chipping equipment out of a thick layer of stone. “It’s phantasmal-level! Hansol-ah’s one of the best blacksmiths I know.”

Around the fire, Junhui nodded. “I specialise mostly in Chinese weapons,” he announced. “I couldn’t add much this time, but he’s the best of us crafters in any case.”

Seungcheol watched the boy’s ears discolour to a vibrant red and fought not to laugh. “Thank you,” he said.

Seungkwan handed his half-full plate back over. “It’s a pity I took Scribe and not Cartographer,” he mumbled around a mouthful of water from the pool Jisoo’s lovely Undine conjured up for them. “Wonwoo- _hyung_ , can you draw us a few to fill up the gaps as well?”

Wonwoo nodded, eyes half-closed. “I’ll have to get a feel for it again, it’s been some time since I had to draw a real one. I only took the subclass because some of the treasure maps were getting ludicrous. Besides, if it’s like everything else is turning out to be, I’ll need some real materials. I cleaned out my inventory for the raid drops on Belphegor; I only kept the potions because I thought something was wrong right off the bat.”

That made Hansol shuffle a bit closer to the fire. “Belphegor?” he questioned with a hint of curiosity. “Last I heard, he still drops those fire scales, right? Did you haveany?”

“I did,” Wonwoo replied. “I had some in my inventory when I woke up, but I had to sell them to get space in my inventory for all the maps I bought. Also, I didn’t want to waste time going to the Guild Hall for money, there were Adventurers five thick around the banks when I ran past, so I used the money the scales got me.”

Hansol nodded as he looked down, chiselling out a particularly stubborn piece of encrusted armour. “It’s a pity, they’re excellent for boosting fire resistance and damage mitigation, or in fire-spells if you treat them right.”

Across the fire Jihoon’s head lifted, eyes gleaming in the light. “That so?” he said avariciously, lured by the promise of upping his fire-based spells. “How do you mean?”

“It’s a bit of a process, but there’s this one anvil in the Depths of Fire that you can use to process the ashes if you know the correct recipe,” Hansol explained. “It was like three expansions back, low-level and the recipe had a tiny drop chance even if you were a blacksmith, and it wasn’t considered being worth very much because all you could forge were the really bad Hell-daggers some of the devils in that dungeon carried, right? Pretty much everyone booed them because the skin was so ugly and the requirements were off the scale for wielding one.”

Jihoon nodded slowly, fascinated. “I remember… it just wasn’t worth it. It literally looked like someone had glued a twig onto a piece of obsidian.”

Hansol lifted his gaze. “But did you know there was a secret area in the dungeon?” he asked. “It was tucked all the way in the back depths, about as far away as you can get from the main areas in that quirky food preparation place, and if you entered it you found a clan of enslaved imps and if you helped them, they taught you the real recipe for working fire- scales and ashes.”

Minghao’s eyes nearly bulged out. “What?” he asked. “What? There’s been no rumours of anything like that, people would have noticed…”

“Mingyu- _hyung_ found it.”

Around the fire, heads slowly rotated to Mingyu, some looking confused and some demanding.

The chef blushed. “I… uh, I was horsing around and when I jumped off one of the tents there I tripped and fell through the wall,” he muttered morosely. “And they were just _there_ … and we had to help them! They had a quest and they were looking so scared…”

Seungcheol stared as Jihoon seemed to burst into helpless, frustrated tears. “So you never shared the recipe or the area, I’m guessing?”

Jeonghan’s smile stretched devilishly. “It was a good place for us to quest through when we started, there wasn’t dungeon contention for it and it suited our level. And afterwards… well, most everyone looks down on guilds like ours, calling us filthy casuals, and I didn’t see the big guilds give out their recipes, so no. We didn’t. Our crafters are the source of most of our money, Seungcheol-ssi. It’s not like we had the correct levels to participate in the really big money-drop raids.”

Across the fire, Seungkwan’s ears reddened; Seungcheol felt his reddening from embarrassment too. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I… most of the time I thought like that too. I’m really sorry.”

“It’s one of the reasons I’m with Atelier Destiny,” a croaky voice from the back of the cave said. “Because all of us have heart.”

“Soonyoung- _hyung_!” Seokmin called, scrambling away from the fire to where the monk had been resting. “ _Hyung_ , how are you feeling?”

Seungcheol craned past the rest. His cousin was helping a guy up that looked remarkably normal at first glance: mop cut, brown eyes, Korean features, not too tall. There were signs of what he had been though – his hair was a dark, sultry black-red still, with odd all-black locks in it, and his eyes were truly like a tiger’s, narrow and angled acutely, packing an impact. His body looked much shorter than the tiger had been, perhaps his height, but strong through the thighs and legs, and he had that peculiar settled martial artist’s stance when he finally got his feet underneath him.

He spoiled it in the next moment by grinning like a mad idiot and bobbing a bow. “Kwon Soonyoung, pleased to meet Kwannie’s guild! Sorry for that, not sure what happened there, but it’s 10:10 time again!”

As one, Titan’s Snap turned to Jeonghan for explanation. “His eyes,” the guild leader said wearily. “They’re at 10:10 if you look.”

“Holy shit, they are!” Jihoon said.

“What?” Wonwoo spluttered. “What kind of crazy regen rate do you have, you had like fifteen thousand status conditions on you, how are you even walking now?”

Soonyoung hopped up and down on his feet, leant to the side to kick, then wiggled his shoulders and torso. “Dragon Hunter, bro, we have to recover fast as blazes.”

This time it was Wonwoo that looked as if he wanted to burst out crying.

Jisoo leant in for a better look, bracing one hand on Minghao’s shoulder. “You’re a Dragon Hunter?” he asked with fascination. “For real? What level are you even?”

Soonyoung’s stomach grumbled as he made for the circle around the fire with Seokmin’s arm slung across his shoulder, sinking down and accepting a plate from Mingyu. “Level 90,” he mumbled around a mouthful of insect stew. “Shit this is good, Gyu-gyu, another winner. But yeah, dragons aren’t that tough if you know how to kick ‘em when they’re down.”

“I don’t even bother healing _hyung_ directly in shorter fights,” Mingyu added. “I mean… it really is crazy. He’s got the highest regen rate I’ve ever seen from anyone, and he can chain like no one’s business.”

Seungcheol silently tried to digest the fact. The more he understood of Atelier Destiny, the more interesting they became. It made him wonder what other secrets they had. “That’s good to know,” he said at length. “And it’ll help immensely in the fights to get you out of here. I’d like to plan a little bit anyway, but if it’s a straight DPS check kind of fight, I’m more than certain we can overcome that.”

Minghao and Jihoon gave each other satisfied high-fives; Jisoo just facepalmed.

“I’d like to take point anyway, given that most of your equipment is unusable at the moment,” Seungcheol continued, relaxing when Jeonghan gave him a simple nod. “Which brings me to the question of loot. We’ll give you what extra we can get now, but it’s not much, and until we trust each other I’d like Seungkwan to set out a contract with our terms. In addition, we’ll agree to stay out of the looting tables for this dungeon clear; it’s not like we were having much luck there in the first place, it looks like even that has changed.”

“Agreed,” Jeonghan said. “In exchange we’ll assist you in the dungeon down in Busan to find your _dongsaeng_. We’ll party up based around that.” He considered, then reached out his hand to shake Seungcheol’s. “Deal?”

“Deal,” Seungcheol said. “Kwannie, you have the necessary stuff?”

“Ye-eees~” Seungkwan carolled. “Let me get to writing!”

It took them a little time to knock out all the details, but a bit later Seungcheol watched as information started popping up in his party screen. Beyond Soonyoung, who was apparently a freak of nature that generally kicked dragons to death, they were all in the seventies, and an interesting mix of classes and subclasses. Most of it would fit well in the holes his own party had, creating a really solid line-up, with only the occasional overlap.

“A Fox Tail Hwarang?” he asked Jeonghan as he got a look at the leader’s stats. “But you’re not having any issues at the moment? You don’t need to adjust back?”

Jeonghan smirked at him; it was Junhui that answered. “This is what Hannie- _hyung_ really looks like,” he said. “He’s got his own fanclub at university and everything.”

Seungcheol choked. Jisoo was the most beautiful person he knew, and it felt like disloyalty to admit that Jeonghan definitely had the edge; thinking of all that grace and beauty just falling on someone like manna from heaven made him feel really despondent for a moment. “Fair,” he croaked out. “I mean… fair. Okay. From what I can see of the stats, that means that Soonyoung and I will be tanking front-line – Soonyoung-ssi, I’ll try to lay down a fixed spot so if you can move attention to me that’ll be good, with Junhui-ssi and Jisoo to manage whatever aggro slips past, if any does.”

“Got it,” Junhui said, whilst Jisoo only nodded, well-used to the strategy. With his golems and other summons, he often off-tanked when a boss was particularly obnoxious.

Seungkwan shuffled closer, scratching out the room roughly. “The boss is here, there’s a stage he’s on, so main defensive line should be around here,” he informed Seungcheol. “There’s an open space before spaces filled with ruined chairs, like it might have been an auditorium or concert stage. There are still some of the high steps left at the back.”

Hansol narrowed his eyes. “I think I saw the exit underneath him once, like one of those trapdoors?” His finger reached out to point at the spot, slightly smudging a bit of ink. “Here.”

Seungcheol eyed the room, then took the pen. “DPS, you’ll flank around our main block here and here – Jeonghan-ssi, you’ll be with Minghao on the right flank… Mingyu-ssi, you’re a shaman druid?” At the tall guy’s nod, he smiled slightly. “I’m putting you on left flank with Jihoon-ah, since he has the most elemental resistances at the moment. Soonyoung-ssi, if you see someone short and on fire storm past you, just _let him_. We all try to stand a bit out of Jihoon-ah’s way.”

Jisoo smiled idly. “He’s a combat rage sorcerer-berserker,” he explained to Jeonghan’s blank look. “Way back when we first started, he didn’t want to accept that he couldn’t do high DPS and not have to stand in the back lines. So he doesn’t. He’s more the type to hold a titan’s mouth open with his body and fire spells down their throat.”

Seungkwan nodded unhappily. “He’s so MP-hungry too…”

Soonyoung laughed manically at that, narrow eyes glinting even as Jeonghan and the others looked just a tiny bit apprehensive. “That’s my kind of guy!” he called, smacking Jihoon on the shoulder. “You just run, shorty, and I’ll dodge as you come past!”

Jihoon sniffed. “Call me shorty again and I’ll send you to the Cathedral,” he drawled.

Seungcheol almost laughed. Though Soonyoung was looking just a little scared, Jihoon hadn’t shoved his hand away, nor wiggled away like he normally would – that was practically a ringing endorsement. “On the healing side of support, Wonwoo-ya and Kwannie, which means you’re on general support with Seokmin-ah, Hansol-ssi, unless you want to move to healing? And Seokmin-ah, you still prefer the Concertmaster build?”

The quiet boy shook his head. “I’m not much of a healer,” he admitted. “I have the spells, but I’m much better at ranged support and offensive debuffing. My range is really great though.”

“It is,” Seokmin agreed. “And yes, I’m still specced that way.”

Seungcheol filled the last bits of the diagram in and moved it to the centre as much as he could so that everyone could see. “I’m not the best long-distance tactician either,” he warned them. “I prefer leading from the front, it’s why I went Commander. Wonwoo-ya is our tactician, please regard his requests seriously in the battles to come. There are still three more, I believe, before we’re done with the tomb? At least three, from what I remember.”

Jeonghan looked at his guild, then nodded. “We’ll see how it goes in the first fight and adjust from there. Just bear in mind that we’re not really as highly-specced as you are and we might be slower to acclimatise than you’re used to.”

“Then let’s be off,” Seungcheol judged. “Let’s see how things stack up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   * Phantasmal level: currently the highest level of artifacts on the server and worth a whole bunch. There is a level above that, Sacrament-level, but only one of those weapons exist on the server and no one knows what the point of it is. Making your own Phantasmal-level weapon is a skill only the best smiths have access to, and it is almost prohibitively expensive. 
>   * Regen rate: the rate at which you heal from wounds barring no other assistance like healing. 
>   * Status Condition: Stuff like poisoned, weakened, and so on which affect your HP/MP/regen rate. 
>   * Chain: putting attacks together in a chain. This can have several effects, but an example is the rogue lockdown in WoW where, if you do it correctly, the enemy is unable to do anything for up to twelve seconds whilst you carve him down. 
>   * Loot table: the loot drops for any given encounter with a boss. 
>   * Sorcerors generally do not charge in close and start whaling on enemies. You have to be extremely quick and extremely good not to get in the tanks' way or break their aggro that close up, or you go splat. 
> 



	4. Arc 1: DPS Check

From a certain perspective, Seungcheol could see why the fight against the spirit lord had been a problem for the other guild, who had depended on good gear and their main tank to help them push through. Still, with the party properly filled out and set up, all following him into the fight, it had taken exactly two rounds to deal with the boss: one just to make sure the cycle continued and to get their best buffs and at least one attack from everyone in place, then one to go all out, during which Soonyoung-ssi had been kicking the old man in the face so hard he hadn’t even noticed Comet Jihoon and Minghao leaping on him, to say nothing of the way Jeonghan, maxed out by Seokmin’s buffs, had carved up what was left over.

The rest of them stood on the stage, looking just a little lost. Jisoo hadn’t had a turn to call his golems, nor had they been needed, and there had been nothing to heal for Wonwoo.

Currently, Soonyoung was going yeh-heh, yeh-heh over what looked like a set of spectral gloves, Jeonghan was rubbing his nose as if he had the world’s worst headache, and Hansol was assiduously gathering up scraps of spectral essence with Mingyu’s help.

“I don’t understand,” Jeonghan grumbled.

Jisoo meandered up, already balling up the insect cloak he had gotten and handing it over. “We’re about as high above the level of this dungeon as you are below it,” he said carefully. “And when it comes to DPS I don’t think you can find better than Jihoon and Minghao, they are so crazily competitive about it. It’ll be different going into real raids: more strategy, less time to recover and learn mechanisms, and a hell of a lot more effort to tank. At the moment you’re just under-levelled and your best gear is out of commission, that’s a bad combination to take into a DPS race like this.”

It was the same in the next fight, in the next three fights, and it was only at the last boss that Wonwoo even attempted anything like tactical aggro management. Atelier Destiny wandered out of the last exit of the dungeon loaded down with cash, items and better gear, and none of them look particularly _pleased_ about it, like their egos had been majorly bruised.

Seungkwan, young brash and sassy Seungkwan, made it even worse, all without meaning to. “That wasn’t such a hard carry, you guys listened so well!” Still, he silenced with a look and raised eyebrows from Jisoo, mumbling a soft ‘Sorry…’ seconds later.

“I’ll go and make dinner,” Mingyu said tiredly. “God knows I didn’t have to do much else today. Jisoo-ssi, would your Undine perhaps help us with some water again?”

They scraped out a spot right at the exit, setting up a joint camp as best they could. It was time for healing and reflection, but at least half the party was grumpy and ashamed, and the rest too unfamiliar with them not to tread on toes, so it was a very quiet camp for an hour or so. This time, to Jihoon’s credit, he plucked out a large stack of Battle Cards, distracting Soonyoung and Seokmin almost immediately with a game.

Seungcheol counted his lucky stars and sank his head back against a stone wall, closing his eyes. Somehow in his mind he had worked the fight up to potentially be much worse; as much as it stung the others, he felt glad it had gone that well. He wasn’t sure how much later it was when he felt a thin body sink down on the same squared-off stone as his, but when he opened his eyes Jeonghan was already bathed in moonlight, and there was a healthier conversation going on around the fire.

_God,_ he thought privately. _It should be illegal for anyone to look this good, gumiho or not._ “You ok?” he questioned, taking the mug the Hwarang handed over.

Jeonghan nodded slowly. “Just… it was just hard to take. We tried so hard to get through. Is this what it’s like being in a dedicated raiding guild?”

Seungcheol sipped at the hot, herby tea. It was unexpectedly delicious, and he wasn’t used to appreciating _tea_ of all things. “Yes and no,” he said at length. “You probably had a more enjoyable experience of levelling, seeing the world and finding all those strange little nooks and crannies in places? We levelled mainly through sparring, dungeons and raids. It’s repetitive and it can get boring unless the mechanics are exciting, for instance when you’re doing a dungeon for the umpteenth time because the item you wanted hadn’t dropped yet. I think I did Aurialis of the Repentent Sinner over a hundred times to get Angel’s Bane here, but she was the best in-spec for me a few levels back.”

“I don’t think I want to do anything a hundred times over,” Jeonghan muttered. “I’d rather just sit somewhere in the sun and sleep. Besides, no offense, but most raiding guild members I’ve come across so far are dicks.”

Seungcheol looked away from his features, only to grin as he saw Seungkwan stick his tongue out for an apparently fascinated Jun and Hansol, showing off the rune tattooed on it. “There’s hefty competition,” he agreed. “My guild is probably a bit strange in that I’m lower-level than all my members barring Seungkwanie, and that’s only because he recently switched out characters. Take Minghao-ah and Jihoon-ah for example, I _know_ they’ve received at least five offers of a buyout between them. Minghao-ah is arguably the most famous assassin on the Chinese server, he’s only on the Korean one because he heard there was a sorcerer here that put out higher DPS than he could as an assassin.”

Jeonghan nodded. “Junhui-ah is an exchange student at my university… Look, I just don’t want this to create problems between us, not until we’re through Busan and we have Jihoon-ssi’s dongsaeng rescued. We’ll try to level up faster, but there’s only so much we can do so fast. Last time we even attempted to get phantasmal-level equipment it was Hansol-ah’s bow, and that nearly broke the guild bank.”

Taking another sip, Seungcheol looked down at the cup in his hands. “Don’t underestimate yourselves,” he said softly. “Your crafters seem to be top-notch, you have a guy that makes a living kicking dragons, and Kwannie would not have helped shit people, no matter how much they paid him for helping to teach them dungeon patterns. No matter that he’s a little quick off the draw with his mouth most of the time, and no matter that he can’t remember. Besides, Jisoo likes you.”

Jeonghan’s voice sounded amused. “Is that the stick by which you measure? Jisoo-ssi’s gut feelings?”

“Jisoo’s been my second-in-command for so long I’d literally trust him through hell,” Seungcheol said. “I trust his opinion in all things, Jeonghan-ssi, even if he’s got the nasty habit of seeing how much teasing he can get away with. His gut’s more dependable and a better judge of people than most of the asshole raid leaders you see out there.” He smiled as he finished the cup of tea. “It’ll be fine. You’ll see.”

Long moments passed before Jeonghan stood, offering his hand again. “It’s a deal,” he said, smiling broadly and looking particularly fey in the moonlight. “Please, just call me Jeonghan. I think we’re much of the same age anyway – 95-line, right? You can call me Hannie, it’s what I’m used to with my same-aged friends.”

Seungcheol, just a little stunned at the beauty of his smile, nodded and stood as well. “That’s my year, yes, so… okay? Let’s work well together, Hannie. Call me Seungcheol or just Cheol if you wish, like Jisoo does?”

Shaking on it, the two wandered back to the fire. They had some of the best kebabs he had ever tasted, everyone settled down for sleep with a guard roster in place, and before too long there was only soft breathing with the occasional snore to break it up.

In the morning, the party divided up to fit on Titan’s Snap’s griffins; barring Wonwoo and Hansol chattering about the strange weapon he had woken up with and some boasting from the others on their toughest fights so far, they arrived in Daegu with only a couple of hours passed. Though they dismounted and grouped up outside of the city, it was still a worrying experience entering it. Seungcheol, who came from the area originally, felt as if eyes were on him constantly as the group of twelve wandered into the swooping, mosaic-filled city; from the looks that Jisoo and Jeonghan gave him, they were feeling the same.

He wasted no time in getting to the closest inn, chivvying most of the two groups into the private room they booked, save Mingyu and Seungkwan, who had gone for ingredients. Even then, he could see the grey defeat on some of the players in the inn’s common room, the way most of them slumped, and the wounds on the Landers that ran the place.

“Something is definitely wrong,” Wonwoo said as he looked at Jisoo, who was still staring out the window. “It looks like some documentaries I’ve seen on the effects of PTSD and severe stress on people. Emotional numbness, hopelessness, self-destructive behaviour…”

Hansol cleared his throat. “Wonwoo- _hyung_ , are you in the medical prog..pro.. career in real life?” His accent skipped, ears quietly red until Jeonghan softly whispered the word to him. “Profession, thank you. You sound very learned on the topic.”

Wonwoo’s lips pinched a little tighter shut, though his voice remained even. “I’ve just been through a lot of hospitals I guess you could say, and I love learning, so I watched a lot of documentaries. I can’t remember everything, but that’s clear in my mind. The subject came up in one of the reports I had to do for cultural history for the university, it was about Korean _hibakusha_ and the effect of not only disbelief from the Japanese side, but even just the effect of living through a time like that.”

“It makes sense,” Jeonghan said softly. “None of us can log out, and players hosting on this server can’t get home to familiar territory, like Minghao-ssi or Jun-ah. Even this gate seemed to be offline.”

Minghao grimaced at the reminder, raking his hands through his hair from frustration.

“In addition,” Seokmin added, “life is really cheap here. It’s what… you can survive on thirty gold or so? That’s barely six low-level monsters outside the cities? Most people likely have enough money that they can survive for months, even years just sitting around, and for high-level players the thrill wasn’t really the money after a while, but the _thrill_. As much as I admire skill, I’m thinking Jihoon- _hyung_ and the others would go spare if they had nothing to do. No wonder we’ve seen so much PKing already.”

Jihoon grumbled and lay his head down on the table, mumbling into the wood. “I’m already going nuts, you have no idea… if it wasn’t for Mingyu’s food I would’ve already killed all of you from sheer frustration. I can’t even level up my subclass, it’s maxed out too.”

Seungcheol grimaced, reaching to pat him on the shoulder. “Something will have to be done,” he said softly and seriously. “I hate seeing Daegu in such a mess, I created my character here, you know? But it’s not really something a small group like ours can do, I’m guessing, I just…”

“ _Hyung_!” sounded from outside, along with a rapid rat-tat of running feet, and Seungcheol quieted as the two shoppers nearly stuck in the doorway trying to get through at the same time. “ _Hyung_ , you gotta come, this is bad…”

Reaching out, Jun pulled on Mingyu’s arm, catching the two as they finally popped through, and everyone made space for them at the table.

“Talk,” Seungcheol invited.

The two shoppers looked at each other, holding a quick round of kai-bai-bo that Mingyu won. He leant his elbows on the table and leant in. “Most of the shops around here have already been stripped of most ingredients, since they are the only things that still taste good,” he said softly. “Some of the Landers we talked to said they’ve not had food to sell for days, and wouldn’t have more until it came in from the farms…”

“Farms?” Jisoo interrupted. “I mean, we’ve all walked past them, but the ingredients always just magically appeared?”

Mingyu grimaced and nodded. “And that’s not all. We overheard some Adventurers talking about an Adventurer-only shop close to the guild building, so we went to have a look. There _was_ a shop, and there’s a lot of food and stuff on sale, even the maps you wanted us to look out for, but everything was so expensive it was shocking, like inflation fifteen times over, right? And some of the stuff on sale, I nearly exploded.”

Seungkwan nodded uphappily, lifting wet eyes to Seungcheol. “ _Hyung_ , they were selling EXP pots too, for Adventurers that wanted to skill up quickly and take on whatever new content there was… that’s banned, _hyung_ , that kind of pot-mining has been banned for ages! Which meant…”

“Which means that they’re getting it off the newbies trapped here with us,” Jeonghan said, expression ugly. “They’re exploiting them and making them perform like people in sweat shops make kids perform.”

“And!” Seungkwan said. “and they are blocking off access to the Guild building here, I couldn’t get in to the bank like I wanted to, so the poor guys can’t even leave the guild, and no new ones can be formed, and they’re _spawn-camping._ ”

Jihoon lifted his head from the table with a frown. “I’ve spawn-camped myself,” he said with irritation. “Whenever some asshole just didn’t want to get the message, having to run between corpse and Cathedral a few times can be an edifying experience.”

Soonyoung shot him a glare. “Did you do it right outside the city and use it as a method to cow people? They’re doing it to the newbies, breaking them slowly to make them fit in with the guild power structure.”

“What?” Jihoon flared. “I would never, okay? That’s contemptible.”

“It’s pain profiteering,” Seokmin said in a bell-clear voice. “Torture, nothing else.”

Seungkwan nodded. “And they’ve started to carve out hunting territories as well, so if you’re not in a certain guild you’re not allowed to hunt in certain areas for spawns, that kind of thing. And the violence against the Landers… it’s sickening.”

Wonwoo folded his hands together. “Degression into a prison-type society is a bad sign, a really bad sign. _Hyung_ , we’ve got to…”

“I know,” Seungcheol said, mind working as rapidly as it could.

Minghao straightened from his small slouch. “As an Assassin, I could take out the ringleader if I have to? Or I can go gather more information, see if I can get some more specific clues.”

Seungcheol frowned. “No. What we need… what we need is a change of heart. Bullies rarely back down unless there’s public spectacle involved. How long do you need to gather some information?” At Minghao’s two raised fingers he nodded. “This is what we’ll do. Split up in twos, pairing up between the two guilds. Get as much information on who the biggest pain here is, likely that guy blocking guild hall access, and we’ll reconvene here in two hours to plan. In that time, take note of how much gold you have on you, pool as much as you can, and don’t get caught.” He looked around the group. “You clear?”

At everyone’s nod, Jeonghan straightened from his slouch. “You heard the man,” he said lazily. “Let’s get cracking. Two hours.”


	5. Arc 1: PUG

Two hours later, when everyone got back together, Seungcheol had to hire a bigger room. He stared at the long groaning banquet table; sure, he had been angry too, but it appears the players in the party had all taken the atmosphere and issues in the town as personal offenses, and had worked their absolute butts off.

He looked from the end groaning the most to a proud-looking Jihoon and Hansol. His shortest guildmember had apparently been fired up by Soonyoung’s angry glares earlier, but even so… “How did you bring a roc down?” he asked weakly.

“ _Hyung_ was incredible,” Hansol drawled, looking proudly at the table and the stack of cash on it, along with all the parts like claws, skin, and what looked like a metric mountain of meat. “We used his griffin to fly out to one of the mountains and found a pack of them circling. Most of them flew away when they saw us coming, but he coached me how to assist him for max healing with what I could do. We were trying for one of the entrances into the Mountain of Woe, but one of the rocs dive-bombed us so we went for it instead.”

Jihoon cleared his throat. “We skipped the recruiting and hunting parties, but it’s true, it’s bad out there. If we hadn’t been flying, we would’ve been ambushed too.”

“You two are batshit crazy,” Seungcheol said flatly. “But congratulations. Wonwoo-ya, Soonyoung-ah?”

Soonyoung motioned to Wonwoo to go first.

“We didn’t make much money,” Wonwoo said quietly. “We mostly concentrated on the Landers though, because they’re so numerous. What I suspected has become true… the NPCs have turned into real people, but from their point of view, we’ve turned into real people and they’re not liking it a lot. I’ve had to heal so many abused Landers today that I’m practically mana-dry. Soonyoung had to step in a few times, forced recruitment is wild out there. We did manage to find out that the main guild that’s causing problems here is called ‘Logos’ though, they’re the ones camped around the Guild Hall entrance.”

“I knew it!” Jihoon snarled. “Remember at the beginning, I wondered why the NPCs were arguing?”

“And also the ones buying EXP pots from whichever guild is supplying them for their ‘Adventurer Store’,” Soonyoung added, clearly unhappy. “From what the Landers tell us, he’s been… well, he’s been pressing young adventurers into becoming concubines and servants for his guild as well. The age restriction on the game was 16+, but it’s a bad precedent to allow to flourish.”

Seungcheol frowned. “I don’t remember the guild Logos, really. Any of you?”

Heads shook around the table.

Minghao cleared his throat. “I didn’t know about them either, but from what Mingyu _-ssi_ and I found out…”

“Minghao-ya,” Mingyu drawled. “I told you not to be so formal. Just call us all _hyung_ too, okay?”

Minghao nodded, fingers lacing together. “Sorry, Mingyu- _hyung_ and I found out that the leader’s name is Fakerr. The bad news is he’s a Monk like Soonyoung- _hyung_ , I won’t be able to one-shot him. He’s got some very nice gear, and he’s backed up by an Elf Sorcerer named Decium. He’s got a _very_ nice set of robes – you remember that Shroud of Ashes drop from the Fire Lizard’s cave, Jihoon- _hyung_?”

Jihoon grimaced. “Don’t tell me a bastard like that got those to drop. I’ve been through that dungeon, like, at least eighty times?”

“He has them,” Minghao confirmed. “He’s got better gear than his boss, so I’m not sure who’s the most powerful there.”

Jisoo, busy counting the piles of gold towards the end of the table still, looked up. “Perhaps it’s a sore point and we can exploit that?” he suggested to Wonwoo, who nodded.

“Seokmin-ah, Seungkwanie?” Seungcheol asked. “How did it go with you two?”

“We did well!” Seungkwan sat up and said. “Honestly, it seems very few people have been through the Tombs of Time in its new incarnation, so they were eager to buy some of the knowledge of the mechanics off us, and Seokmin- _hyung_ did a really roaring trade when we made our way to the Lander armoursmith here. He let us set up shop there for a few hours as _hyung_ helped with armour creation for them to sell at a higher price point. Also, _hyung_ made a discovery!”

Seokmin smiled broadly. “I found out that if Seungkwanie prepared high-level supplies, I could bind some of my lower-level skills into scrolls for use.”

“Adventurers saw you create them?” Jisoo asked quickly.

Seokmin shook his head. “No, no one saw us, we were working in a back room and just experimenting. I lied and said we got it from drops, but that I wasn’t sure what odds they were on the loot tables. Still, they sold really well, and the good news is that the news about the revamped dungeon drew most of the higher-level unaffiliated adventurers off to go and try it.”

Jisoo nodded. “That was well done,” he approved. “And we have a little over forty thousand gold here, that’s a good start.”

“We wandered up to the guild building,” Jeonghan added. “They still denied us entrance, but it gave us time to look over their store, and I sold off that insect cloak Joshuji gave me. Since we were high-level and geared nicely – thanks for that, guys – they didn’t try to bulldoze us into entering, but the guy I spoke to offered to take us to his leader if we wanted an in. He said they were saving for taking over not only Daegu, but planning on reaching out to Busan as well since they have friends there. Perhaps even Gwangju.”

Jisoo grinned. “Hannie can charm like no one’s business,” he added. “In addition, the guy let slip that the guild they’re getting the EXP pots from is based out in Busan.” His expression turned ugly. “You’ll never guess who, Seungcheol.” His glance deviated to Seungkwan for a fraction of a second before he looked back to his guild leader. “It’s Primacy.”

There came a tinkling of coins as Seungkwan jerked, accidentally pushing over the pile he had been working on putting in a case, but he merely kept his head down as he straightened it, biting his lip.

_Amazing_ , Seungcheol thought to himself, seeing the rage simmering deep in Jisoo’s eyes, not to mention Jihoon and Wonwoo. _It’s been over three years, and I still feel like I want to chop those guys up into tiny pieces. I should have gone ahead with Jihoon’s offer to force him through a cheese grater._

Aloud, he tried to keep his cool. “We’ll deal with them once we get down there,” he said, moving along swiftly to spare Seungkwan the pain. “Jun-ah and I didn’t find out much of import…”

“ _Hyung_ got an offer of marriage,” Junhui said from the side.

Seungcheol promptly turned red. “It was a _joke_ ,” he gritted as everyone perked up.

“She had massive tits,” Junhui said dreamily. “Said she wanted a husband to help her in her business.” Blinking lazily, he tilted his head a little. “You know that romance system with all the silly quests and stuff? Well, in whatever the hell that latest patch did, it also buffed that considerably. Apparently married couples can level up really fast together, there are some special quests and the like and get this… Adventurers can marry _anyone_. They can even marry Landers if they want to, the system supports it.”

Jihoon’s eyes rounded. “What, anyone?” he got out. “So if, like, I want to convince one of the Elder Dragons to marry me…”

Junhui wrinkled his nose. “Mayor said as long as they could pass peacefully into a city and could croak out ‘I do’ without being forced, because somehow the system detects _that_ like it detects heavy fighting in cities, you could marry whatever you want. Even slimes. He’s not had any ceremonies yet, but it’s only time before the word spreads.”

Jeonghan grinned. “Homosexuality is no longer frowned on here?”

Seungcheol decided not to confront why he felt so interested, or overtly notice Jisoo’s thoughtful look. “I guess perhaps culturally still for a while, but if this is really a new world it’s more feasible to worry about whether a guy is going to drag in a rat-man rather than another guy. Especially if the rat-man can croak yes.” He paused, trying to decide how to word his next words. “Incidentally, we didn’t discuss it, but I also won’t have discrimination in either my parties or my guild. There’s enough pain without going looking for some more.”

Jeonghan nodded seriously. “Fully in support. We won’t need to split up over that.”

Jihoon, curled up small, turned and stretched out over Mingyu. “I don’t care~… Mingyu-ya, _hyung_ is hungry… Can you make me some rice pretty please?”

“I’ll see what I can do,” the chef promised, patting him on the shoulder. “Just as soon as we’re done here.”

Seungcheol just shook his head. “From all the information gathered, it’ll be the easiest path to go there and challenge their leader – Fakerr? – to combat. If we show up pretending that we had to get into the bank and had gotten a large haul, they might attack us for it, and it’ll give me a chance to challenge him.”

“ _Hyung_ ,” Minghao warned nervously. “You’re a great Guardian, but you’re lower-level than he is, and he’s geared pretty well.”

Giving a skewed smile, Seungcheol shook his head. “People like that call for backup the moment they have a little trouble and try to crush their opponents. I don’t think he’d hesitate to call in reinforcements, and that’s when you lot can back me up.”

“If Soonyoung- _hyung_ doesn’t mind going over skills with me as a refresher, I can plan it out,” Wonwoo added. “Especially if we hold some members in reserve, make them think they’re winning. It’s more about making them look weak and stupid in front of as many as possible as it is about a quick win.”

“One more thing,” Minghao added. “If anyone needed any motivation still. He’s sitting on a literal hill of money. I’m not kidding, it spilled out of the guild bank entrance, we’ll have to excavate the poor bank. That much money, spread around…”

Seungcheol nodded with a grin. “That’ll buy a lot of goodwill,” he said happily, noting Junhui’s sideways look. “Okay. Let’s start planning.

It took them most of the rest of the night to get the plan hammered out to Wonwoo’s satisfaction; with the sleep they had in between – Seungkwan had come to curl up in his bed with him – it had just gone ten in the morning when their advanced party sauntered up to the guild hall’s entrance. True to Minghao’ report, there was a literal throne on top of a small hill of gold and other treasure; the man that sat on it was massive and apparently disinterested in the view from his mountain of money, slouching as his servants poured wine into his cup and giggled as they adjusted a leather vest over his massive shoulders.

_Fakerr,_ Seungcheol read from the info screen. _Level 90, Monk._ From the bars for HP and MP, not to mention the equipment he had on, it was going to be one of _those_ fights.

“Holy shit,” Soonyoung breathed behind him. “Why didn’t anyone tell me he had Greed Gauntlets and Five-toed Howl Boots? Those are fucking _pimp_.”

Seungcheol cast a look behind him. They had decided on himself, Jeonghan, Jisoo, Soonyoung and Wonwoo for the initial challenge; the rest of the party was some distance away, concealed as much as Minghao could. “Concentrate first,” he warned Soonyoung. “Claim later.” Stepping forward, he cleared his throat. “Yah,” he called in a thick Daegu satoori. “The man up there with the fake fur collar. We need to get inside to bank our loot. This mess is goddamn disgraceful.”

Fakerr’s bloodshot, piggy eyes lifted to stare down at him. “Shut the fuck up,” he grouched in return. “Just leave everything at the bottom of the pile and see Decium for your requisition chits.”

“What do you think you are, some kind of fucking king from old? I’m not here to give you anything, you imbecile,” Seungcheol snarled, laying it on thick. “Are you from Gwangju, stupid? Get down from that fucking pile before I make you, you stupid fucking farmer.”

_Seungkwan:: Hyung, why are you allowed to curse so much all of a sudden and you roll your eyes at me when I say damn? It’s not fair!_

_Seungcheol:: Not trying to be fair, Kwannie, just trying to get his attention._

It seemed to do the trick; Fakerr straightened and stared down at him, at the large bags the party was toting. “Wrong thing to say, stranger,” he snarled as he made to jump down from the heap, landing easily on the ground in front of it. “I’m gonna give you one more chance to kneel down and kiss my boots before I fuck your face up with them.”

Seungcheol could hear the whispers from behind him as Adventurers formed up to watch the spectacle.

“Oh my _god_ ,” Jeonghan drawled, leaning idly on one leg, running his hands through his long locks. “Your guy told us you were kinda slow, but I didn’t think you were this slow… we can’t fight in the city. You’re right, Cheollie, he’s stupid. Besides, he looks inbred too. He’s probably got some kind of water buffalo for a mother.”

‘I never said that!’ floated from the crowd and Fakerr glared the offender down. “Just outside the city green zone,” he snarled. “Team A, with me. You wanted a fight, little level 87 boy? You got it.”

They traipsed towards the nearby gate, two groups with a growing crowd of Adventurers looking for the next exciting thing behind them. Seungcheol could feel the change as he stepped out, though normally he paid no attention to it. There was a fine rippling feeling against his awareness, a hint that a numinous kind of protection was gone. What surprised him was that so many Landers were in the crowd as well, staring at them with sad eyes. It was easy to think of them as people, at least theoretically, but seeing that in bruises and dislike and dying hope was horrible.

Things sorted themselves into a large circle around himself and Fakerr, who was collecting a last round of giggles not only from the two ‘servants’, but from the six huge guys that had carried his impromptu throne outside the city limits with him in it. Shrugging – Wonwoo’s plan was specific in its instructions if not its timing, he settled to check his armour and Angel’s Bane, finding both polished to within an inch of their lives.

_Seungcheol:: Thank you, Seokkie, Hansol-ah, these look very good. All of group two are concealed, yes?_

_Minghao:: Close to you, hyung. We’ll be there on time._

_Seungkwan:: Fighting, hyung! Kick his backside!_

_Jihoon:: If you die here you’ll regret it when you come back to life, Cheol. I’ll help Jisoo-hyung and Jeonghan-hyung pluck your eyebrow hairs out one by one._

_Seungcheol:: Yes right thank you for that vote of confidence._

They were out of time. Fakerr jumped into combat, definitely not a duellist, and as much as he was a bastard Seungcheol could admit he was _fast_. Monks were one of the classes he understood the mechanics of the least, so…

“Dual Fist!” Fakerr roared as he sped forward, manifesting a golden glow around his bracers, and it was all Seungcheol could do to get Angel’s Bane in the position it had to be; seconds later he took five claw slashes straight to the chest, each finding little weak spots, each passing through with little resistance. He nearly choked on the pain, it felt as if someone ran a dagger into him again and again. “Resilence,” he managed to choke out as Fakerr fell back to sneer at him. It didn’t offset the pain, but it healed him a little, though it was a drop in the bucket next to what that attack had done to him.

He cast a quick glance upwards at his interface, seeing that his health had dropped almost by a thousand.

“What’s the matter, is the little Guardian afwaid?” Fakerr taunted, patronising him as he clicked his claws together. “You don’t have such a big mouth now, you bitch, do you? Phantom Step… Aura Saber!” The words were barely out of his mouth when he burst back into being almost right in front of Seungcheol, one leg already coming down in a powerful swing aimed at the ground right in front of him. “If your healer can’t be bothered to heal you, I’ll just render you down to meat!”

“Counter Break!” Seungcheol roared back as he swung Angel’s Bane into the fray; it was risky to use so early in battle but it had a massive countdown, he’d rather get it over, and if he didn’t damage Fakerr soon their plan would start falling apart. No one with an ego as massive as that would call for help if it wasn’t really needed. He swung as hard as he could, stabbing Angel’s Bane directly into the path of the blow and felt the energies of the blade howl as they activated.

The large sword ate the attack, keening with pain, but not a sliver of it passed by, and a fraction of a second later it spat the entirety of it out again, right into Fakerr’ amazed face. The howling vortex of power twisted black ribbons around them, causing a massive flashy aureole of energy. He had barely pulled it out to fall back when he spotted a glimmer of silver threaded through all that black rage. Grinning like a loon, he swung Angel’s Bane around again. “Iron Bounce!” he roared, coaxing the automated counter-attack into being, and gleefully fell back as he watched the monk bowled away across the impromptu ring by the second attack.

The crowd hissed with reaction, especially the Adventurers, as they watched Fakerr’ health meter fall. Five hundred, then a thousand, before the black energy ate him down over two thousand HP and made him land flat on his back.

“Don’t just stand there!” Fakerr coughed as he straightened to his feet, reeling for a moment. “Get him!”

“Castle of Stone!” Seungcheol roared, falling back into a defensive position, and saw the attackers’ eyes widen as his body took on the familiar golden glow, shedding the damage in their attacks like rain. Sword-and-board Guardians were the overwhelming majority; most tied that skill to their shields, and most forgot that it wasn’t a skill linked to shields specifically.

A figure clad in dark grey stepped up behind Fakerr, looking contemptuously at Seungcheol. “He can’t move for another twenty seconds. Wave A, concentrate on his party, whittle them down whilst he watches.”

_Decium_ , Seungcheol identified in back of his mind. _The mage might be more dangerous. He thinks like a weasel. Unlucky for them…_


	6. Arc 1: Boss Battle

All he heard was a dopplering scream behind him as Soonyoung jumped into the fray, released by the act of Decium committing other fighters against the party. He was the first to land, though Jeonghan was scarcely a second behind him with his crazy speed; from the corner of his eye he could watch as the tiger-haired monk not only roared “Dragon Saber!” loud enough to be heard on the other side of the city, but to land it improbably against the Swashbuckler somehow instead of the ground itself. It ripped the Swashbuckler over and up into the tornado of energy his kick caused, sending him flying over the city’s wall, only to de-rez into gore that rained potions, equipment and money over a few unlucky houses.

“It’s the Tiger of Namyangju!” a guy in the crowd shrieked. “It’s the Dragon Kicker! Watch out… run!”

_Jihoon:: Oh sweet Jesus that’s sickening. I’m gonna hurl._

_Seungkwan:: He did just kick a guy over the wall so hard he exploded, hyung…_

Seungcheol saw the cringe set in on Jeonghan’s face as the Hwarang’s movement pattern rippled around him, stinging one of his most persistent attackers. “Snake Bites!” he called out in a somewhat-high voice as he curved his body around another blow, then took the energy from it to rapidly fling himself to Decium. He caught the mage just in time, slashing at him with a light sword-thrust angled up at his face. “Razor’s Edge!”

Though Seungcheol couldn’t see it, still nailed down and shedding damage, he heard Jisoo’s gentle step forward perfectly, so preternaturally attuned he was to it. They had practiced the timing of this so often…

Jisoo stabbed his short sword towards the ground, calmly incanting in a language Seungcheol still didn’t understand. The “Summon Follower – Golem!” came out perfectly though, and he felt the obdurate stone in his body fade just as the golem roared and leapt forward, taking his place as he rolled back and out of the fray.

The massive creature roared again, nailing all attention on him, and Jisoo’s dry, wintry little smile did not bode well for their opponents.

Fakerr, apparently pushed past his temper if not his endurance, surged back into the fight, heading right for the golem. “Logos!” he roared. “To me!”

_Seungcheol:: Time to party, guys._

The shriek that came sounded odd, whistling through the air with a keening, warbling tone. A single arrow impacted in the middle of the ground, and the moment it touched an intricate seal array spread out from it, splitting off into four more that rotated counter-clockwise to the central array. “Trap Art: Retribution of the Five Gates!” he heard from Hansol’s direction. The first ranks from Logos stumbled into it, too used to coming when their boss bellowed, and fell right into the jaws of it. Black tendrils lashed from the ground as unaffiliated Adventurers stumbled backwards to get away from it, taking the Landers with them from sheer pressure if nothing else.

Across the circle, Decium’s eyebrows arched. “Interesting, it’s rare these days to get a Medium still focused on the non-healing arts. Genpo, Aries…” Two rake-thin Assassins materialised out of nowhere. “Take care of the bow user,” he ordered. “And bring me the bow. Healers, take care of Fakerr.”

There was a huge free-for-all in the midst of the circle as Fakerr went up against Soonyoung and the golem. Seungcheol was a little amazed; the Monk’s phenomenal gear and inherent brutality kept him going, moving much more quickly than the slower, more Strength-orientated dragons Soonyoung generally fought. Magic effects and skill auras howled and tore against each other, so loud that he missed it when the foremost rank of healers on Logos’s side simply collapsed and disappeared, sent back to the Cathedral by Minghao.

The sound of the golem exploding was louder still, causing Jisoo to fall back, and Soonyoung had to jump from the blow that nearly disembowelled him, but all Seungcheol did was stand up and grin with a bloody mouth as his reset times wore off, knowing what was coming.

“Get down!” he heard Wonwoo yelling to the Adventurers and Landers still standing in the circle. “Get down!”

Seungcheol rushed forward, rejuvenated for a second. His first step was alone, his second had a slim, small body on his side. “Covering!” he yelled into the massive confusion, and Angel’s Bane spun a blue dome around him which Jisoo and Jeonghan retreated behind.”

“Crimson Nova of the Demon Empress!” Jihoon roared, body enveloped by flames that sped him on as he ran, jumped, and fell like a bomb right in the midst of the fray. The earth around him shattered, shooting up lava through the cursed net Hansol had woven; the small sorcerer’s hands lifted, curled and slammed down again, and it was all over. The lava exploded as he manipulated it outwards, clinging to everything in sight like sticky fire and it burned, it _burned._

“Cheol…” Jeonghan’s urgent voice called.

“It’s okay,” Jisoo soothed as Seungcheol concentrated on the barrier. “Watch.”

“Infinity Force!” Seungkwan’s voice came, and Wonwoo lit up like a supernova of gold.

The healer straightened, spun his staff around him and the charms on it rang once, audible even over the massive confusing and screaming. “Infinite Aurora Heal,” he incanted, spooling it out around the epicentre of the attack. The damage was fierce, but none of it reached the onlookers, it simply healed too much for the attack to stick.

Silence fell as Jihoon’s spell finally ended and the chaos fell to silence. Fakerr was down on the ground, hovering on fifteen HP. Decium was nowhere to be seen, and the lesser members of Logos only present in the form of their valuables and money scattered on the suddenly-whole circle of ground. Most of the Adventurers’ faces were filled with shock. The Landers, Seungcheol judged, looked as if they didn’t quite believe the hope that stared them in the face.

“Logos’s reign here is ended,” he said as he pulled himself straight, helping Jeonghan and Jisoo up too. He paused for a second as Hansol and Mingyu prowled from the circle, dragging two sleep-mazed assassins with them, before looking at the crowd of faces. “Titan’s Snap and Atelier Destiny lay claim to their assets immediately…”

He was interrupted by a groan from Fakerr, and paused just long enough for Jihoon to put the boot in. People often thought all to the sorcerer was rage and eating capacity; very few knew how much Soonyoung’s words yesterday had needled at the soft heart he kept locked up tight. “Shut the fuck up,” Jihoon gritted out, slamming his face into the ground over and over again. “You’re fucking disgusting, you piece of shit. If you can’t listen to your betters talk, then just go back to the Cathedral.”

Fakerr popped almost delicately for such a big man, and a grief-stricken wail from a young Lander woman acted like a fuse for the crowd. Conversation erupted, confusing Seungcheol at the sudden outburst of tears.

“No,” Jisoo said as he leant forward, shackling him by the wrist. “No, let them have this, they’ll find out soon enough about the money and valuables.”

Seungcheol felt silent and nodded, letting wiser heads prevail.

In the end, it was Mingyu that rescued the day; he cheerfully cooked up a feast in the main square, producing so much food from the hoarded ingredients that that it was a feast fit for kings. Adventurers and Landers alike queued up for the food, but left with so much more: money, tools, ingredients. The gear they kept; Jihoon practically threw the Greed Gauntlets and Five-toed Howl Boots in Soonyoung’s face, which led to the elder chasing ‘Little Grumpy Bear’ around the main room, trying to hug him in thanks.

Wonwoo was so tired from the effects of Seungkwan’s spell that he couldn’t move from bed; channelling that much healing had really taken it out of him, which led to Seungkwan practically waiting on him hand and foot, and Mingyu popping in every so often to try and heal him a little.

Of them all, Seungcheol felt the happiest when he saw Jun saunter into the building over an hour after the fight had ended. “I was right,” he said without much ado as he sank down at the table across from Seungcheol. “When I made my way past the gold and into the guild building itself, it was still business as normal. All our funds were still available. If we want to join up into a single larger guild, it’s possible. I put most of the items we didn’t want in the auction pile, so that’ll still come in.”

Seungcheol grinned. It had really surprised him when Jeonghan explained that Jun was doing an odd double-major in finance and sports medicine because he wanted to open his own series of clubs and that it was due to him that their guild’s finances had prospered so much. “Well done,” he said. “Sorry for keeping you out of the fight.”

Jun grinned broadly at him. “You kidding? Stealing that overblown Guild Hall Fakerr needed for his ego was one of the best pranks I could have pulled. Besides, it wasn’t as if this was Ohiro of the Thundering Prisms, you didn’t need four tanks in the fight.”

Jeonghan lifted one hand as Jihoon demolished his third bowl of rice and leant sideways to curl up over his lap like an insistent cat. “So that went through? I wasn’t sure if the rules would allow it.”

Jun nodded. “The second their assets got claimed I pulled it into Atelier Destiny’s account. It’ll be there waiting for us if we ever want to merge the guilds. It’s kind of filthy though, we’ll have to hire like fifty Maids to help us clean it.” He reached for a hotdog. “But something interesting showed up,” he mentioned idly. “The guild vendor was so happy I was throwing money at him he mentioned that his best buddy was looking for sales as well.”

Seungcheol frowned. “I’m still not used to all these sudden relationships the Landers have… who’s his best buddy?”

“The estate agent,” Jun said around a mouthful of food. “Turns out players with enough money can purchase buildings now, even on the Korean servers. I took the opportunity to take a walk with him whilst the party was on and make a few small investments, since you gave me access to your guild bank.”

Seungcheol boggled. “Buildings are for sale now?”

In response, Jun swallowed and treated them to another huge grin, upending a bag that rained keys down on the table. “Happy Whatever,” he intoned. “I got as many as I could with the money our guilds got from Logos; in fact, I think we own like a quarter of town now. I thought we could hire them out. It’ll be a steady stream of income whilst we go and rescue this Chan.”

Seungcheol broke out in laughter. It was the best, sneakiest trick he had seen anyone pull since the Cataclysm.

They rested for the rest of the day and the whole of the one next, making deals and turning away people that wanted to join their guilds and gearing up for the trip down to Busan. Wonwoo recovered, albeit slowly. Seungkwan was chained to a desk the whole day, creating contracts and stipulating arrangements and a thousand other things. The Chinese duo prowled through the city like hunting cats, wiping out the last few pockets of resistance whilst Soonyoung and Jihoon took it upon themselves to go and gather ingredients. Jeonghan and Jisoo were thick as thieves, politicking and meeting with other guild leaders and Seungcheol…

Seungcheol sat down in the small meeting room surrounded by the leaders of the Lander community, trying not to feel uncomfortable as they heaped thanks on their two guilds.

“Honestly, it’s been so difficult adjusting, and you guys are so much sturdier than us, it’s been difficult dealing with all the raw aggression. It’s not like Silla or one of the Kingdoms, we’re just a small free city,” the mayor mumbled. Around him, the guild leaders nodded in a chain. “If you hadn’t stepped in…”

“No, please don’t thank us,” Seungcheol muttered through his discomfort. “It happened now and the power should be more or less equal again. I’m sorry that it got so bad… you should get along better with the support guilds and supply guilds now, since they have to negotiate with you on space use… please stop mentioning it.”

One of the blacksmiths, a man with more muscle on his frame than Seungcheol had ever seen, gave him a firm nod. “You’re a good man, sonny,” he said. “With a good heart. We might not mention it, but we won’t forget it either. You heading on down to Busan then? Gonna do the same?”

Seungcheol wavered a hand back and forth. “We’ve got to rescue a friend from a situation down there, the last we heard he was in the Tide King’s Palace, and he’s not speaking to us.”

The men around the table looked at each other, faces growing slightly worried. “We can’t be much help there, the water races haven’t spoken to us in centuries, and that’s a nasty place. I can provide a letter though, over my seal, to inform the Busan Landers of what you did for us,” the mayor said. “We can get you cheaper prices, perhaps, and free lodgings. It’s not much…”

Seungcheol shook his head again. “It’s more than enough,” he said, sincerely happy about the offer. “Thank you, sir.”

On the other side of the table the Guilds’ accountant pinched his lips together. “Hold on a moment.” He stood and disappeared to the confusion of the men, before returning a few moments later with a small, delicate shell pendant. “This belonged to my great-grandmother,” he said, resting it in front of Seungcheol. “Perhaps it will aid you still in the watery depths, as it once aided her.” He hesitated, looking at the circle of grim faces. “Thank you. For rescuing my daughter from what that piece of trash wanted to do to her.”

_Oh,_ Seungcheol thought queasily. _Oh. Perhaps the one that started crying so much?_ “I’ll treasure it,” he said out loud, clenching it gently in his fist. “And we’ll use it well.”

That night, he handed it to the gentlest person that he knew, sunshine Seokmin, in the hope that it would have a better legacy going forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   * I modified some of the attacks and history slightly, so it's not strictly canon. 
> 



	7. Arc 1: Hado of the Pelagic Depths

Compared to the flight from Seoul to the Tombs of Time, thence to Daegu, they had barely gotten on the griffins before Jun motioned for them to circle, then strike out over the ocean and approach the little island of Yeongdo-Gu from the south. Contrary to what it looked like, this one was a spiralling pearl fantasy of carved coral and spiral shells that offset beautifully against Busan’s sprawl. The city was all glass and chrome and futuristic roof gardens, looking far better from the air than it would from ground level.

The griffons landed on a small patch of green, shaded grass on the island; Seungcheol very carefully didn’t comment when Mingyu swung Wonwoo off his griffin into his arms. He had been pulse-healing the Cleric for most of the trip; Seungcheol wasn’t sure whether it had been because they were in the game now, or whether Wonwoo’s Ritian body was especially frail for some reason, but Seungkwan had taken one look at him this morning and flatly refused to cast the spell on him until he was well again. He was on strict cartography duty for the day.

“…let me know how that goes for you, Hansol-ah,” their Enchanter said as he peered at the inscriptions he had made on the bow. “I don’t know if it’ll hold, but let’s hope, okay? We just have to keep trying the new things!”

Soonyoung strutted forward like the tiger he was internally, looking up at the spired, brilliant palace ahead of them. “I’ve never been through here,” he drawled, leaning from side to side to stretch himself warm. “I’ve heard the lower levels are a good place to mob-mine if you want.”

Jihoon sauntered up to him; somehow, on him the Shroud of Ashes looked like a simple knee-length robe with anthracite-dark pants on underneath. “It’s in three different areas,” he shared. “A lot of people got through the first stage, even some solo players, but the second area is miserable with mechanics and all sorts of checks. No one on this server’s gotten through to the third part yet, the weapon drop tables were just not worth it. It’s a hell of a long slog, days of being in water up to your ankles and nastiness crawling out of every hole.”

Soonyoung whistled. “And you think your brother’s in there? You haven’t even gotten a peep out of him?”

Looking away, Jihoon grimaced. “We weren’t friends, okay? I mean, he wasn’t on my friend list nor I his, he was mostly over on the Japanese server practising his language because he wanted to go there as an exchange student. We mostly coordinated via voice-chat.”

Seokmin popped up at his other side. “He was on my friends list!” he shared. “But he’s not answering me either, so I don’t know if he just wants to do this on his own or he can’t somehow.”

Looking sideways at Jihoon’s unhappy face, Soonyoung continued quickly, skipping over the obviously painful subject. “So what’s the last area? Some kind of super-boss, I’m guessing? I wonder if this changed too.”

“ _Hyung_ ,” Hansol said softly, petting Seungkwan’s griffin one last time. “I don’t think it’s going to matter soon, I think we have company.”

Jun, alighting, drew his fans with a nod. “You almost have elf-eyes, Hansol-ah,” he praised. “Boss, the mobs are starting to flock, eleven o’ clock.”

Jeonghan looked and sighed, brushing his robe down fussily; Seungcheol looked as well, and muttered as he saw what looked like an army of crabs crawl over the nearest dune. “Look alive, everyone!” he called as he ran forward. “Let’s see how quickly we can get through this! Remember how to kill them for the ingredients!”

Five hours later, barely past the first half of the first stage, the group lay in one of the resting nooks, each one trying to recover their energy as fast as possible.

“I could…” Wonwoo began.

Groaning, Mingyu shook his head and raised his staff, planting it into the ground. “Heartbeat healing!” he got out loudly, though his own MP dipped near to the dregs of his pool. “You’re not… well enough…”

Wonwoo bit off something that sounded like a curse.

Seungkwan, pushing himself upright against Seokmin, groaned. “This dungeon is crazy, so many mobs! That last wave was fifty? Sixty? How do solo players even get through this?”

Minghao cleared his throat. “Slow and quiet,” he said snarkily. “Much easier to sneak around. But someone keeps pulling them in waves…” He turned just enough to give Soonyoung and Jihoon, who had been treating it as a personal competition, the evil eye.

“You’re just salty because you can't handle much AoE,” Soonyoung jibed back as he twisted and crunched, trying to unkink his spine. “This is refreshing! Besides, it’s not like we can make a beeline for the higher levels, we have to check every corner to see if the kid’s holed up somewhere! Come on guys, it’s just been a few hours! Take a catnap or something, I’ll keep watch!”

Jisoo, drooped over the convex curve of a shell-looking couch, fought one eye open to look at Jeonghan. “Really, how do you deal with that energy on a constant basis?”

“I don’t,” Jeonghan grumbled back; he shifted to get comfortable, which made Jihoon give a little growl as his nap was disturbed. “I just point him at dragons. And why am I the designated pillow suddenly?”

Seungcheol prayed for wisdom and patience, then for hard alcohol. Neither materialised. “He just does that.”

“Like knows like, you’re both lazy, _hyung_ ~” Seungkwan muttered from the side, though he had his head on Seokmin’s thigh and seemed disinclined to leave.

“Okay, enough!” Seungcheol said hastily as a fight threatened to break out. “Two hours downtime. Soonyoung-ah, thank you, please time us. Wonwoo-ya, if you’re itching to do something sit down and concentrate on healing yourself and updating the map. I don’t want to hear that cough again, or a sound out of anyone else. Sleep.”

Silence fell between them, broken only by Soonyoung’s footsteps as he wandered and kept guard. Even those stilled after a while, and sleep gently came for them. In the distance, as the mobs circled on their spawn paths and the tide slowly receded, the white-noise rumble of the waves sounded muted in the pearl-grey fog that rose through the corridors.

Seokmin woke up some time later, feeling tired and cranky and worse than he had when he fell asleep. There was something warm on his lap, and a questing hand soon sank into warm hair. He opened his eyes muzzily in the room, blinking slowly. It did nothing to drive away the nacreous, glowing fog that lay thick in the room. He couldn’t see much beyond an arm length; when he sat up, groaning, the others were still out cold.

He blinked again, trying to help Seungkwan to sit up. The younger guy didn’t so much as budge, not even when he managed to drape him against the wall. He _creaked_ when he stood, moving to check the others. Jun, then Jihoon and Hansol; all out cold. Seungcheol, Jeonghan and Jisoo lay in a tangle together, so quiet that he panicked at first, not seeing their chests move. The others lay scattered on the sandy edge between inlet beach and ankle-high, lapping water. Jeonghan’s long hair lay in it, drifting slowly like seaweed, and everyone he checked felt cold and clammy to the touch.

Panicking despite his weariness, he dragged them as high onto the little beach that had been flat, somewhat-comfortable ground only hours later. It was impossible to tell time from the room itself, and he had never had a spell to tell time. He called up the party menu with trembling fingers, frowning at the paua shell blue that hung over everyone. The fog was thick with it and he felt the pressure against him again, softly encouraging him to sleep, to dream of things not of this world. Though the pressure was soft it felt immerse. His knees buckled as he tried to fight it, but to no avail. He fell over Junhui’s long legs, nearly crashed his face into the sand and landed on his side with a dull grunt.

The menu screen wavered in and out in front of his eyes as he tried to remain awake. There was something hard against the curve of his cheekbone, something irritating beyond the soft sand and the immense, nostalgic pressure.

He breathed out, tried to shift away, and landed with his ear on the hard object.

It felt like someone ripped a veil from his senses. Instantly he was as clear-witted as normal and the fog was _just_ cold, _just_ mystifying, not a beacon of lassitude. He could move his limbs and did, reaching one hand beneath him to find whatever pressed against him. Cautiously, gently, he pulled it out and stared down at the shell of the necklace Seungcheol had given him for safekeeping. It was pulsing ever so faintly, feeling warm and smooth in the curve of his hand. Wondering, he raised it to his ear and closed his eyes at the song coming from it.

It was low and sweet and drugging itself. The singer had an odd timbre to their voice, until even his trained ear couldn’t hear whether they were male or female. It seemed the exact counterpoint to whatever was in the fog. Praying desperately, he clasped it to his chest and began to softly sing with.

It wasn’t like the bright shimmer of notes he could normally coax from his bardic songs. Instead, the magic that flowed dropped and swirled in a pool on the ground, slowly chasing the fog away. It flowed up and over the small beach, folding over his friends like a golden blanket. Sifting in through their skin, he watched as the magic of the song revived them, pushing their HP and MP up. They stirred slowly in a bundle as he fought not to cry, keeping the song up as they knuckled sleep out of their eyes.

Seungkwan’s gaze found his, pure gold for just a fraction of a second, before he inhaled to start singing with. His voice was smoky-sweet in his chest register, not quite as trained as Seokmin’s, but still beautiful. They meshed together effortlessly, creating a conduit of magic that flowed from one to the other as the Enchanter spun out magic for the Bard to use in his cleansing song. It finally pushed the fog back, flushing it from the cavern, and revealing that they had somehow been moved in their sleep.

The little inlet beach was tiny against the far reaches of the cavern, and beyond a thin barrier reef of jagged rocks lay a deep, dark pool. Something was churning at the water and as they watched, horrified, a thing crept out of the water onto a spit of rock in the middle of the pool. It was both massive and not, mouth filled with broken teeth and hair lanky strands of ugly brown seaweed. The body was fish-nibbled enough that none could say whether it was male or female.

“That voice!” it hissed as it scrabbled for purchase, mad purple eyes glinting. “That accursed voice! How dare you bring that here!”

Wonwoo’s voice sounded even as he was pressed back by his fellows to the back of the group. “Level unknown!” he called to warn them. “Optional boss, all I get is the name, Hado of the Pelagic Depths! No information on resistances!”

“Buffs!” Seungcheol yelled as looked around for his armour, eyes widening. “Our gear, where’s our gear? Jisoo, golems now!”

Twelve panicked faces looked around; of all of them, only Seokmin seemed still to have his on.

Seungkwan stepped forward, clapped his hands together and pulsed magic through the space between. “Astral Bind!” he yelled as a lash of pure white energy struck out at the Witch. It latched onto the misshapen body, twining around it, and yanked it down onto the spit of rock. “ _Hyung_!” he yelled as he kept channeling the spell. “Five seconds, it’s resisting!”

Jihoon leapt up, mana coiling around him as he ran towards the crown of stone teeth protecting their little inlet. His hair flashed white, his eyes silver as he cartwheeled over it. “Blizzard!” he roared out as he came down, releasing the spell as his boots touched the dark water. Ice burst into being as he channelled the spell not at the Witch but at the water, flash-freezing a small path to the rock.

Soonyoung didn’t pause to thank him. Instead, accelerating as he ran over the ice, he jumped almost to the ceiling of the cavern and came down with boots blazing. “Wyvern Kick!” he shouted as the force he gathered impacted against the Witch’s body, kicking it clean off the little spit of land. It snapped the last strands of Seungkwan’s Astral Bind as it went, allowing the Monk to land on the precarious jut of rock.

“ _Hyung_!” Minghao yelled as he ran over the thin bridge of ice, already flickering into shadows. “There on the other side, look!”

Seungcheol’s head snapped around. “What?” he asked Jun at his side. “What, I can’t see what he means!”

Jun narrowed his eyes as a large whirlpool started in the water. “There’s a chest there! It looks… it looks… I can see Angel’s Bane!”

“Everyone, quick!” Seungcheol roared as he struggled through the water to the bridge, boots thudding on it. “Jihoon-ah!”

From behind a scream as Jeonghan slipped and fell into the dark water, limbs flailing until he could haul himself back again. His skin looked red and boiled as he crawled to safety. “Acid…!” he gurgled. “The water is acid!”

Mingyu sank down at his side, hand glowing as he cast a healing spell, though his eyes were focused on their weapon users running over the shrinking ice.

From beneath, what looked like ten diseased kelpies came, hungry hands reaching to try and pull them into the water. Jihoon dodged, sank down and rested his palm just above the water as Soonyoung stood over him, protecting him for a second. “Black depth of the moon, icy rays that weep like tears…” he mumbled, trying to hasten through the casting time.

“What the ding-dong fuck?” Mingyu yelled at Wonwoo. “Why is he incanting, why doesn’t he just cast and go!”

Their Cleric bit his lip, ignoring the Druid for a moment. “Seungkwan!” he yelled as Jisoo’s golems phased into being and sat at the ridge of teeth, making an impressive shield for the back row. “He’s going to draw deep!”

Mingyu watched, concerned, as their Enchanter sank down on his knees in the shallow pool of water at the edge of the safe zone. He watched him bite his lip, close his eyes and stick his bare hands in the acidic water. “Soul Sublimation,” he whispered, and the world lit up around them.

It felt as if he ripped every single ounce of mana out of the atmosphere around them. The rocks bleached and crumbled, the water dessicated, and his own reserves dropped like a stone as Seungkwan started channeling mana. It was none too soon; over on the spit of land, Jihoon did precisely the same. “… open the golden heart of the Nightmare Realm – Invocation: Ninth Layer of Hell!”

The vapour and ice and leftover water in the room sublimated as a dark howl came. It breathed ice into what was left, sheeting so fast over the depthless lake of acidic water that the two barely yanked their hands free in time. Further it grew, forming like craquelure crystals over the kelpies that screamed and froze, until the room darkened and set into place and they seemed locked in an inverted dome of glittering black crystal. The two magic users fell back, both clearly spent, but they had bought a moment for their party to get ready.

“Seungkwan has always been gifted at manipulating mana,” Wonwoo said distantly to Mingyu as he watched the Medium go and heal the Enchanter’s tattered and blistered hands. “You’ve heard of that group on the Japanese server, the Debauchery Tea Party?” At Mingyu’s hesitant nod, he sighed softly. “At the height of their prowess, there were few guilds that could stand with their clear times; of those on our server, the Keleni whose symbol was a poppy bleeding red, was their only real competition.”

Mingyu grimaced. “I’ve heard of them. There were rumours that they used exploits to achieve their clears, and the leaders had a really bad name amongst the community but nothing could ever be proven? When the game creators suddenly disbanded them months later and negated their clear times, there were rumours that the police had to get involved. That was... just a few months before the ninth expansion rolled out?”

Wonwoo grimaced. “Yeah, shortly after that enchanters got that massive nerf into Taoshi in the ninth and the real-life auction house was removed to ‘help balance game dynamics’? The player behind Keleni’s guildmaster totally lost it when his main source of money dried up. Made a lot of guesses and threats at the time.” His eyes found the back of Seungkwan’s head. “Two months later he made good on those threats and tracked down the boy in his guild that reported on their activities, and he nearly killed him before his mother came home from work. The game developers heard, and reverted the boy’s account as an apology.”

“What? But…”

“Even then he couldn’t touch a PC for years. Jihoon-ah used to tutor him offline for hours. He and Seungcheol only recently got him to play again, and now this happened. Regardless, he’s the only true Enchanter left on this server and even then, Seungkwanie is extremely good at it. However, that group selling the EXP pots, Primacy? They’re the leftovers of Keleni. He's frightened out of his mind, but he's still fighting, and he's fighting hard because for once, he trusts us.”

Mingyu’s heart felt as if it wanted to crumple; his eyes wanted to water but he angrily dashed them clean and stepped forward to help heal instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   * Incanting: a type of spellcasting that has to be performed for special effects or certain high-level spells. They take time to cast but are normally stronger than others, and they require a variable amount of mana. 
>   * Soul Sublimation is a way of getting extra mana from the environment. You literally break things down into mana. However, in order to do that you have to be in touch with it, in this case the water, which would be extremely painful. 
>   * The ninth layer of hell, at least to Dante, is a frozen layer.
>   * The song that Seokmin hears is [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OU1qkH7Fwqw). 
> 



	8. Arc 1: Song of the Siren

They moved quickly to the other side of the large, iced-over cavern as something kept banging in the depths, making it boom like a drum. When they got to safety, everyone equipped instantly, leaving the two spellcasters right at the back of the group. “Our DPS is going to be lower,” Seungcheol said, shrugging on armour. “Seokmin-ah, Hansol-ah, you’ll have to concentrate on buffing and debuffing as much as possible until we find out what sticks. Wonwoo-ya…”

Wonwoo frowned. “I can manage healing for one fight,” he said stoutly if quietly. “Especially if Soonyoung- _hyung_ tanks, he’s more of an evasion tank in any case.”

Just beyond them the ice creaked and cracked and buckled, but did not break, despite the increasingly furious blows from beneath.

Jeonghan pulled his robes straight and pulled Wisteria Switch as Jisoo tied his hair back for him quickly. “With Jihoon-ah out of the picture Minghao-ah’s our best chance for massive burst damage,” he muttered as he examined his weapon. “We can deal with any mobs that show up, and keep up damage, if you can swing it around to a position favourable to him.”

Minghao, never the loudest, marched to the edge of the beach to look around quickly, frowning. “There,” he said, stabbing his finger towards where a jutting piece of crystal made a small perch. “I can get there quickly enough and wait.”

Seungcheol nodded at the quick plan and looked around, smiling at them. “Guys, we can do this,” he said earnestly. “I firmly believe we can do this. We’re working well together, and we’ve already accomplished so much in this new world...” He paused as the crystalline ice creaked and groaned. “I know we’ll do fine, without returning to the Cathedral, okay? Three-two-one… fighting!”

“Fighting!” the others roared as a patch of ice on the far side of the room splintered and finally gave up the good fight. Minghao disappeared, footsteps without sound, and the tanks rushed out onto the remaining ice to go and face Hado.

“You know,” Jeonghan said to Wonwoo, waiting for the signal for DPS to rush in. “I’m not sure what pisses me off more, that he’s so good at leading or that he’s so _sincere_ about it. This would have been vastly easier if you lot were all assholes.”

Amidst the sounds of ‘Anchor Howl!’, ‘Rainbow Arabesque!’ and ‘Purification Barrier!’, Wonwoo took a moment from party management to grin at him. “Too late to turn back _now_. You’re up, Jeonghan- _hyung_!”

“Come on, Mingyu-ya,” Jeonghan grinned as he moved to charge over the still-standing ice. “Let’s go and show these raid-heads how it’s done.”

Hado of the Pelagic Depths turned into a nightmare fight. It was only the ice of earlier that kept them on a level playing surface, and it had several attacks that nearly wiped the party, including an attack with tentacles that flailed up from the dark, which cracked more and more ice as it went on, and a dark ink attack that not only blocked their sight but stung at every bit of exposed skin with a corrosive fervour. Soonyoung and Jun were starting to look like lobsters; it was when the monk visibly flagged for the first time Seungcheol ever saw him that he motioned him back a step or two, switching back in again with Angel’s Bane already glowing.

“Castle of Stone,” he roared, stepping between Jeonghan and an attack, and closed his eyes. _We can do this_ , he prayed to himself. _We can do this, we can. I believe in us, in all the guys behind me…_

The tentacles tore at his absolute defense; he wasn’t going to last long, but he had faith in his people, faith… he could hear Hansol frantically cleanse debuffs from Soonyoung and Jun and it bought him a moment of clarity, just enough for a thought to traipse into his mind. Wonwoo had been too busy healing in tandem with Mingyu, the last few minutes had been _crazy._ Perhaps Seokmin…

_Seokmin._

_Seungcheol:: Seokmin-ah, try that song that you heard earlier! Can you channel your magic as you sing it?_

_Seokmin:: I… hyung, are you sure? I’m barely keeping ahead of the buffs here…_

_Seungcheol:: Just try it, Seokmin-ah, I think it’s the catch for this encounter, seeing as no one else ever reported it!_

For a moment Seokmin’s voice stopped, faltered, but picked up again, swelling low and sweet and powerful. It reverberated over the noise of the fight in a peculiar fashion as Seokmin sang. Slowly, so slowly they almost missed it, the pendant around his neck started glowing as well, radiating a powerful golden light. Hado screeched and spat, but the golden mist started weighing its limbs down, pushing it further and further into somnolence. From the ice below spirits rose up, rippling between aqua and pale pink, creating a tight shell around it.

From far above, clinging to one of the crystals like a cat, Minghao leapt down as if possessed, boss finally in the right position. In his hands the thin, slim spear he fought with flashed with all the colours of nacre separating out into three prongs of white light. “Assassinate!” he yelled, voice larger than his Ritian body should have been able to accommodate, and the sound when he struck Hado in the back of the neck was immense. It belled out, resounding in the cavern as he cut down through the diseased body. As it exploded, a white ghost-image lingered, showing a beautiful woman for barely a second before it disappeared.

The sound in the cavern shattered the ice crystals that still lingered, creating a flurry of mana. The shell on Seokmin’s chest, still glowing, channelled it back into itself and cleared their view, revealing a small, beautiful lagoon with a staircase leading up to what looked like the next level. The water, no longer acidic, brightened to something that looked like the tropics, washing gently against the pearl staircase. Along its length, the sinuous shape of golden bodies complete with long, fishy tails caught the light of the setting sun, sparkling like a dream.

“Uwhaaaaa,” Mingyu exclaimed as he straightened, supporting a limping Soonyoung. “Oh my god, that’s so beautiful.” Jeonghan, Hwarang robes rustling in the gentle breeze, turned and turned, hair reflecting the sunshine colours as Seungcheol clapped Minghao on the shoulder.

“Dude,” Jihoon choked out, standing for the first time since the massive expenditure of magic earlier, and went to do the same. “Dude, that was awesome.”

Hansol, returning to Seungkwan’s side, frowned at the paleness of his skin and took slim hands in his, examining them for blemishes from the earlier acid. “Next time don’t be such a show-off,” he muttered, and got a weak eye-roll for his trouble. “I almost couldn’t heal that.”

Jun, examining the chest that had appeared at the bottom of the staircase, paused and looked up, shading his eyes against the dusk light as he did so. “Hey!” he called behind him. “Jihoon-ah, Seokmin-ah, look up… there, do you see what looks like the second level, that section of chevron glass? Just beyond it, does that look like a guy fighting a merman?”

Jihoon and Seokmin rushed him, heads craning as they tried to see the spot he was looking at. It was a little difficult, especially with Jun’s elf eyes, but Jihoon’s indrawn breath was all Seokmin needed to know.

“He’s… he’s alive,” their sorcerer said. “Oh my _god_ , Channie’s alive…”

For the first time since the groups melded together, they saw Lee Jihoon cry with sheer happiness as Junhui gently wiped his tears away.

Jisoo leant down to touch the chest gently and sat back on his haunches as it faded away. In its place, stacked neatly, lay a large pile of gold, a lot of ingredients from pieces of shell to pearls, as well as a pair of light gloves in a celadon colour, intricately stitched in seemingly random patterns and a scrolling pattern of waves around the edge. “These are new,” he murmured, picking them up. “Celadon Gauntlets,” he pronounced. “They increase MP flow and shorten spells that involve water somehow. Anyone want them?”

Mingyu, nodding, took them from him and very gently tucked them into the back of a crying Jihoon’s belt. “He’ll want them later on,” he defended his choice.

Turning back from his stretch, Jeonghan glanced over the water to the futuristic city of Busan behind the palace. “I think this is a true safe point,” he said. “It even looks like we can fly back to the city from here?”

Wonwoo meandered up to his side. “I agree… most raids have them anyway, as resupply points if nothing else. This is one of the most sprawling dungeons ever developed, especially the lower chambers, so it makes sense even if we skipped all the other bosses down there.”

“Do we resupply, or do we push on?” Seungcheol asked. “How’s everyone’s inventories?”

In a rare moment of safe party management, the two groups sat down and sorted through all their things, cleaning up and consolidating all the ingredients they’ve been able to get. There was more than enough fresh fish and octopus and eel for Mingyu to make a few days’ good meals, and enough space that everyone agreed to push on for now.

The staircase up to the second level was refreshing even though Jeonghan complained about the number of stairs, to the point where Seungcheol just piggy-backed him up there to make him shut up. They had lovely views the whole way up, right to what looked like an ornately-gilded balcony that had odd-looking chairs on one end and an entrance into the castle on the other, currently filled with filmy curtains.

Minghao was the first to near one of the windows to the inside, peeking through. “This room is empty. It’s not familiar, but… some of the angles seem almost Chinese?”

“To be expected,” Hansol said as he peeked into the room. “Rococo as an artform and a style of architecture, which this is, was partially influenced by chinoiserie, which was largely a European interpretation of Chinese and other East Asian artistic traditions. It’s mainly a style known for its decorative excess, but I guess it fits with the location, even though I like modern lines better… what?” He looked around at the faces staring at him. “What?”

Seokmin stared at him with big eyes. “I think that’s the most we ever heard you say, Hansol-ah, how do you know what this is?”

Hansol coloured. “I had to take a few additional courses for my journalism degree,” he mumbled. “History of Art and Architecture.”

Seungcheol’s lips twitched with mirth and he shook his head as he led the way into the chamber. From the inside, the floor sloped inward noticeably; the room itself seemed more a decorated passageway than an actual room, and at the far end there was a large, sinuously-twined golden archway. He cautiously led the way through the room – some kind of gallery – and to the archway, motioning Minghao on inside with a jut of his chin before he peeked in as well.

The room inside was massive, seemingly the entire core of the palace’s structure, and filled with water like an aquarium. There was light everywhere, lent both by twinkling globes of magic as well as the refracted beams of dusk, and reminded him of nothing so much as a gigantic aquarium. A look down showed him no end to the depth – it seemed to go through into the real sea – and a look up had a domed ceiling with intricate paintwork depicting some kind of sea god surrounded by a lot of fat cherubs and all kinds of mythical sea life. From his angle, through the water, it looked almost as if they were moving slightly, hair floating serenely. Down below something bobbed, looking like a gigantic, submerged clamshell.

Jisoo peeked past his shoulder at the slow, stately way the kelp in the water danced in a pavane. “I wouldn’t like to fight in there. It’s going to be a pain in the ass to stay afloat. I wonder if that’s what the balconies are for.” Softer, almost whispered, “What was that between you and Hannie earlier?”

“Perhaps,” Seungcheol muttered, giving a quick touch to his waist before pulling back. He didn’t answer the second; instead, looking around for Jun and Minghao, he motioned to them. “Jun-ah, in which direction did you see the two fighting from here? Minghao-ya, will you scoot ahead and tell Chan-ah that we’re on our way and ask for him to wait, please? I don’t know if this place is anything like the Tombs of Time, but it might be he’s also stuck in a resurrection loop here.”

Jun craned his head and nodded, pointing out the direction to Minghao, who disappeared immediately.

The main group carefully slipped into the empty room, staying on the balcony. They spread out a little, two-two, identifying the other exits out of the room.

Hansol, bow in hand, was the one that found the main staircase leading down hidden behind a pair of ornate doors, and opened them on a crack to look back. “There’s a whole courtyard out there,” he said. “Different gardens and little sitting areas, but it’s deserted, and the place still hasn’t reset appearance, someone went through there with a great deal of extreme prejudice.”

Soonyoung padded over and peeked through beneath his chin. “Normally the server would just spawn an additional instance for each group. I guess that’s not happening any more, or it takes more time? Pity.”

“ _Hyung_ ,” Seungkwan sniffed. “You’re crazy.” He bent down to mark the exit with a sigil, stepping back afterwards before catching a glimpse and crowding close. “Lemme see?”

Hansol obligingly stepped back a little, nudging him into place next to Soonyoung with a touch to his waist. “See?”

“Mm,” Seungkwan agreed. “It looks so pretty, perfect for picnics. I wonder why mermaids need a normal garden though…”

“Guys,” Jeonghan called across the large room. “Come on, I don’t want Minghao-ah too get too far ahead of us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   * For an image of what Hado might have looked like before becoming a zombie, [here](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/85/15/6a/85156a9651d9a7e36a645a74564f45c1.jpg) you go. 
>   * The idea that I had for the cave after the fight is something like [this](https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/6d5cc2ed-d48d-4118-b58b-0046aa21761d/db3cajq-7c5cd3f7-043f-4701-9268-6a52f2f36334.jpg/v1/fill/w_1094,h_730,q_70,strp/inside_out_by_andrewshoemaker_db3cajq-pre.jpg?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7ImhlaWdodCI6Ijw9MTM2NyIsInBhdGgiOiJcL2ZcLzZkNWNjMmVkLWQ0OGQtNDExOC1iNThiLTAwNDZhYTIxNzYxZFwvZGIzY2FqcS03YzVjZDNmNy0wNDNmLTQ3MDEtOTI2OC02YTUyZjJmMzYzMzQuanBnIiwid2lkdGgiOiI8PTIwNDgifV1dLCJhdWQiOlsidXJuOnNlcnZpY2U6aW1hZ2Uub3BlcmF0aW9ucyJdfQ.6fn4XZ2bM0Mbg_NBQA2bp3nmcA4f-SYG8LQV8_Yejss) by Andrew Shoemaker, a talented photographer. The staircase would be just out of sight. 
>   * Chinoiserie and rococo are real, [here](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/W%C3%BCrzburg_Residence#/media/File:Kaisersaal_W%C3%BCrzburg.jpg) is an example of rococo, with all the gilding and the fussy details and everything. 
> 



	9. Arc I: Special Event

They followed along in Jeonghan’s wake, trailing deeper into the building. It was quiet as they went, but signs of battle became clearer as they went on, until they caught up with the main party at a crossroads.

“…you get an item off the guy in this room,” Minghao said as they rocked up. “The guy left through the left-most door just as I entered, but when I tried it, it was locked. I don’t know if we’re going to get the same with the way enemies don’t seem to be spawning. We might have to… what are you _doing?_ ” he stuttered to a stop as Soonyoung meandered up to the leftmost door, considering his foot, then the door. “You can’t just…”

Soonyoung kicked the door again and again; on the third, most furious kick it simply split in half, hanging sadly off its hinges on one side.

The rest of the party stared at him, wide-eyed.

“Skeleton key,” he explained with a happy, squinty-eyed grin as he wandered through.

Jisoo, hanging back, stared at the door, then the devastated-looking Minghao, then Jun’s laughing face. “Out of sheer curiosity,” he said softly as the party streamed through. “He doesn’t know that he’s not supposed to be able to do that, right?”

Jun slung an arm over his shoulders as they wandered forward. “Oh, Soonyoung-ah might act like he’s thicker than two bricks put together, but he’s really not. It wouldn’t have worked on a real server, but we’re not on a server anymore, are we?” His brows knit. “Or are we? Things are confusing. But regardless, he probably saw room damage and just decided to go for it. I… whoa, that’s a big crab.”

In the next room, which seemed oddly large, a massive crab lounged in the midst of a rockery, belly flat on beach-sand and humongous claws relaxed in front of it. There was no boss information on it either, just a little sleeping animation over its head, with two staircases leading up and around towards the next level. Behind it, pressed into the furthest corner of the room, a small treasure-trove of gold and gems, with an item stuck in the pile here and there. Just to one side of that, a small pond that changed into a stream as it flowed out of the castle’s closest balcony, turning into an impromptu, never-ending waterfall.

The party huddled close around one edge, staying as far as possible from the crab.

_Mingyu:: Are we attacking or sneaking around? I have plenty of supplies, but that’s a lot of gold…_

_Jihoon:: How did it even get up here in the first place?_

_Hansol:: What does it live off?_

_Jeonghan:: Off adventurers. We don’t need that much gold._

_Seungcheol:: Well… not exactly true…_

_Jisoo:: We spent most of it on the buildings back in Daegu. We’re going to need a lot of money if we want to do the same here._

_Seokmin:: It hasn’t done anything to us, hyungdeul. Perhaps we should go around and get to Chan a little quicker... we just need to wipe out the last boss, right? We can skip all of these._

_Seungkwan:: Not all the time, sometimes bosses can attack you if you try to bypass them, or they drop an item that you need to defeat them…_

_Wonwoo:: It didn’t wake up when we entered despite the noise so it’s likely asleep by magical means. We really should just go around. Only problem is the noise if Soonyoung-_ hyung _has to kick that door open again._

Grimacing at each other, the party did a quick round of kai-bai-bo which Jeonghan won, so the Hwarang motioned them up and around. They snuck up the one staircase as quietly as they could, not daring to employ any skills that could cause it to aggro, and had almost reached the door when a whisper of sound came.

_Minghao:: There’s a staircase up the outside here if you jump over to the next balcony. It’s not that far, maybe two metres._

_Seokmin:: Oh hell no. No no no._

_Jun:: I’m with him. What if we fall?_

_Seungcheol:: We still have Adventurer bodies, but it’d be a pain to have to get up. Rather come back, Minghao-ah._

Minghao was sulking just a little when he joined them again, but Soonyoung tiptoed to the door and tried to open it sneakily. There was no creak. What there _was_ seemed to be a young mermaid, who took one look at them and screamed her head off. Behind them, the crab woke suddenly with a rushing sound of gold tinkling off to the side. Soonyoung, wide-eyed, tried to slam the door back shut but Jeonghan and Jisoo put their shoulders to the back of the crowd, pushing them into the mermaid’s room and slamming the door shut.

They rushed off to the side and her balcony, tumbling out onto it in a huge knot of people; when Seungkwan nervously turned to bow and babble apologies Mingyu wasted little time in hooking him closer by the collar, shutting the balcony door as well. Hearing the crab flail and thrash about in an attempt to get to them, they stumbled up the balcony’s staircase, hands tight around the railing as the tower shook. Right at the top, rushing into what looked like a playroom of sorts, they collapsed still in that knot, trying to get their breath back.

“I don’t ever want to… Seokkie, what is it?” Jeonghan asked as he stared at the wide-eyed Bard, who was looking out one of the large windows across the room from them. There, stretching from the main body of the palace to the one they were in, was a thin, silvery-blue bridge. The longer he looked, the more it dawned on him that it was a glass bridge, intricately carved and decorated, with nothing likely holding it up but magic. “Oh. Oh, well that’s something.”

“ _Hyung_ ,” Seokmin whispered. “No way. I can’t.”

Rolling to his feet, Minghao went to investigate. Seconds later he started jumping up and down on it like a bug, likely to test its give.

Jun whimpered and looked away.

Seungcheol frowned and hunkered down to Jun, cupping the nape of his neck with one hand. “Hey,” he said softly. “Hey, it’s okay…”

“Shit,” came Jihoon’s voice, sounding deeply impressed. “He’s actually tumbling along it.”

_Sometimes,_ Seungcheol thought longingly, _I wish I could give them all a firm kick._ Out loud, still clasping Jun’s neck, he sighed. “Rest here for a while,” he decided. “Just a little while. We’ll cross on the griffins if we have to. Minghao-ah…”

“ _Hyung_ , it’s totally safe!” Minghao called as he hopped to his feet and did the same set of cartwheeling tumbles back to delighted applause and laughter from Jihoon. “Look!”

“Come back here!” Seungcheol called. “And come and sit down like a normal person, we have to wait for everything to de-aggro first!”

They spent some time there, waiting fifteen minutes before they made their way across the thin bridge. On one side, holding tightly to Hansol, Jun crossed with his eyes shut; on the other, Seokmin was so nervous that he kept babbling about dying, hiding his face in Soonyoung’s neck as the monk piggy-backed him across to the accompaniment of Minghao’s jeering ‘Just die then!’. Grateful to be back in the trunk of the main palace again, albeit a lot higher than last time, they snuck inside and through into what looked like a delicate lady’s solar, filled with soaring windows that had only gauzy blinds in front of them, pink and green wall panels that contrasted with the nacre of the palace walls, and the longest, strangest couch any of them had ever seen.

Jisoo wandered over to it, pressing slightly on the curve of it. “It feels like memory foam,” he murmured, pulling his fingers back and rubbing his fingertips together. “But wet too, and warm, like it’s enchanted to keep one temperature. Perhaps for the frills that don’t have very good blood temperature regulation? Whatever this liquid is, it’s not water, it feels more like glycerine… ah, no no no,” he muttered, pulling Jeonghan back from it. “No sleeping right now.”

Jeonghan gave him a haughty ‘I wasn’t even thinking of that’ smile and edged away from the couch. “You’re so mean, Joshuji, so mean and so wrong…”

In front, peeking through the door that led into the next room, Junhui frowned at what he could see.

_Junhui:: The room’s some kind of dining room from what I can see. There are these tanks along the side, with sea creatures in them like at those upscale restaurants, and a sunken table with a hole underneath and strange harness-chairs? They look like they’re meant to hold merfolk upright whilst they eat. There’s only a … watch out!_

The room they were in swirled, doors opening and water surged forth from the room beyond to drag them in. In a flurry of limbs, they spun around the room trapped in the undertow, until the room’s water cleared and they could get a better view.

“Welcome,” a voice said from the side. “To the Mad King’s Banquet. I’m Commander Bathys of the Pelagic Depths, and I’ve had the kitchens prepare a _special_ meal for the Adventurers that defeated my sister.”

Seungcheol tried to lurch forward, only to be held back, and he looked down at the chair that held onto him with fear.

“Damn,” Minghao groaned across the table. “We just had to go and trigger an Event.”

The merman that had spoken sneered down his nose at Jeonghan; he slowly glided off the ramp at one end of the room as music swelled, haunting and lovely. Around the edges of the room the water in the aquariums began to swirl as well, slowly growing darker and darker. Off to one side, almost exactly across Seungcheol’s spot, Hansol leant closer to Jisoo. “ _Hyung_ ,” he muttered. “What’s an event?”

Jisoo, eyes on the merman’s slow approach, spoke from the corner of his mouth. “Sometimes in dungeons and raids, you trigger special content because you met conditions previously in another dungeon or a raid instance. They’re called Special Events. People try and trigger them on purpose because they generally have better loot and rewards, like Mingyu probably triggered that one when he got into the hidden cooking area and you guys got that extra recipe. In this case, likely because we were the first ones to kill Hado.”

Seungcheol let the words flow over him as he eyed the merman still gliding closer to them. He had a typical fighter’s build, strong shoulders and muscled arms; where his waist moved into his tail the muscles moved oddly but still beautifully, showing off small, glimmering scales. He had an impressive set of armour on, intricately chased and decorated, neatly sashed with an intricate silk wrap low around his torso. Instead of the warrior’s weapon he would have expected, there was only a single extremely decorated dagger thrust through the sash.

A feeling of cold wetness made him look down, and his eyes rounded as he saw the water they hung over slowly start rising up from its previous level at their ankles. There was movement down there, the suggestion of shapes darting like little fish…

…no, wait. They _were_ fish; less the fish that ate dead skin from feet and more the type to eat whole feet in seconds, like those little ones you found in the Amazon. “Feet out the water!” he yelled at his party, curling his legs up to rest them on the table itself. Some found it easy, like lanky Jun. Others, like Jihoon, yelped and writhed as they tried to get some kind of purchase for their feet. He grunted as the holds of the chairs bit into his torso. Try as he might, he couldn’t quite…

“Don’t bother to fight,” the merman sneered. “It’ll only hasten your death, and I want to _play_ first. And don’t think you’re going to resurrect, you worthless scum. When my fish eat you, your souls will be lost forever!”

His eyes widened as Minghao curled improbably upwards, torso so thin that it seemed to slip free; it was only when he saw him perch on top of the chair, body outlined in a dark purple glow, that he realised the Assassin had used one of his shadow skills to get free from the trap. He struggled anew, trying to bust through it from strength alone, when he heard a short, quick scream of pain. As the descending merman laughed, his gaze flashed to Seungkwan, who had accidentally slipped his feet back into the water, and paid for it with strips of flesh raked away from them.

Seungcheol fought in earnest, but couldn’t get free. Even Soonyoung, physically the strongest in the party, couldn’t break the restraints on them. Minghao was trying to free Jun, the closest to him, but no matter how he hacked at the restraints of the chair he couldn’t get them free. The merman sidled closer, reached to his waist to pull the dagger, and Seungcheol saw black, trying so hard to wrestle free that it felt as if he faded out.

_No, those are the restraints, they’re squeezing in,_ the tiny logical portion to his mind said. _It must be a special condition, one only Assassins can get out of…_

Through his darkening vision he very faintly heard the sound of Minghao trying to go one on one with the merman, but all that caused was the sound of a body hitting one of the tanks and a scream as it broke, sending water all around them. More screams from the less-armoured members of his party, and the faint, horrible desire not to die, despite knowing logically that he’d wake up in the Cathedral... If the guy had been lying, and there wasn’t some strange non-resurrection thing going on.

He closed his eyes gritted his teeth, fighting fiercely against the restraints with all his might, desperate to save his party. There was a strange roar in the air, a snarl of rage he hadn’t heard coming from himself in a long time, and an almighty crash as someone shouted out Japanese. He paid it little attention, digging deep, calling up all the willpower that had once been the only thing keeping him alive.

The restraints shattered like a cannon exploding as he roared, bursting the coral off him. The blackness faded slowly, but it didn’t matter. He could feel his people in the strings of his heart, in the protect-protect-protect of his instincts that thundered. He tasted it in the blood that flowed over his tongue. _No_ , it insisted adamantly. _Protect my people. I have to protect my pack._

Down in the depths of his being something stirred, opened red eyes, and roared up past the control he normally kept on his instincts.

“Heart of the Mountain!”

The darkness exploded away from him, everything seen dimly through a red haze. He howled, Angel’s Bane already shrieking as it swung over his shoulder, and he jumped for the bastard that hurt his people. There was another figure there, one he didn’t recognise, but it hastily got out of the way as he locked eyes with the small, dark, falling figure.

Minghao looked at him in that endless second and nodded, feinting from attack to a trap that pulled the merman open for a split second.

Seungcheol’s lips formed around words he had never spoken before, but often felt in his heart.

“Pack Leader’s Price!” he roared as he sliced down-down-down through the merman’s astonished face, catching the dagger with his flesh and bones. It wasn’t that he didn’t feel pain, but that he didn’t value it above the pain and safety of his pack; _that_ came first.

The merman exploded, rocking the room, and the entire grisly setup disappeared as he landed in the parts that clattered and splattered to the floor. He fell in it too, hard enough that his knees slipped and his cheek and lupine ears slide through blood and gore as he lay there, trying to understand what had happened. His mind was absolutely blank – he had no idea how the dagger still in him got there, or what had made the room look like a devastation zone, or… or… or who the people were? There was a short guy kneeling next to him frantically unlacing his armour, clad in what looked like Japanese armour right down to the little split-toed sandals.

He curled his lip and flinched away, snarling with the pain.

Another guy clattered down as, improbably, a tree of what looked like light grew in the midst of the ruined room. This one had kind eyes and a summoner’s robes on, and when he stretched a hand out to Seungcheol the smell of familiarity overwhelmed him.

_Pack_ , something in him insisted. _Pack. Friend. Brother._

Memory roiled sluggishly, but spat up a name. “Jisoo…?” he managed to get out, spitting out blood. “Jisoo, what happened? How did I get here?”

Behind Jisoo Jihoon-ah had the strange young man in a headlock, hugging the stuffing out of him.

“Holy shit,” a very tall man breathed, eyes wide. “Holy shit, what was that?” _Mingyu._

Jisoo helped Seungcheol up as his memories slowly ebbed back – names, at least, if not what had happened.

“That was a Final Strike,” Minghao said through quivering lips, coming around to help him into a standing position with Jisoo’s help. “I’ve never seen an Adventurer do it before.”

Seungcheol struggled forward, trying to get to Seungkwan, something insistent that he had been injured. Between one step and the next he passed out, utterly tired.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   * Seungcheol's Overskill is inspired by the bulgae, fire-eating dogs that caused eclipses when they ate the sun or the moon. 
>   * Final Strike: my name for the way bosses routinely one-shot people if the raid/party does not have enough DPS, good enough tanks, what have you. It's powerful, but in return he loses all his memories of the fight and two class levels immediately, and it's not something he can consciously control yet. 
>   * This is not like in the anime, where people pop into delicate soap bubbles. 
> 



	10. Arc 1: Status Effects

Seungkwan whimpered and crawled to his knees, trying not to move his feet too much. The tree of life was healing him in pulses but it was still sore as fuck, and he knew if he looked at it he’d see bone and fat and muscle, not just skin. Everyone seemed in shock, not just himself, though Jihoon- _hyung_ had long since recovered enough to go and hug the Samurai that had appeared. It was gone, the hideous nightmare of flesh and cutting pain like knives, but for a second he had been back in a small apartment, a middle-schooler trying to defend himself against a grown man with a knife and a grudge.

_Never again,_ a sweet voice inside him promised. _We protected you, myself and the Guardian. Never again, my little Seungkwanie._

He was on the verge of screaming at the voice to stop when hands folded around his shoulders. He looked up, lip starting to wobble as he saw Wonwoo’s concerned face. He was the exact opposite of him, quiet and intelligent, but there was genuine worry in his eyes, and at a whisper from his _hyung_ the pain started fading away a little more. Tears threatened thick and fast, but he bit savagely at the inside of his cheek to suppress them.

“Kwannie,” Wonwoo- _hyung_ murmured, reaching out with thin hands to cup his too-round cheeks. “Are you ok? Does it still hurt?” As he spoke he spooled out power, healing Seungkwan’s feet faster than before.

He couldn’t tell him why it still hurt, so he mutely shook his head and accepted the hand up, carefully putting weight onto his feet. _Yup. Definitely still painful._ “ _Hyung_ ,” he whispered as they held back from the giant conversation-slash-argument in the middle of the room. “What’s going on?”

Wonwoo smiled wearily, only too happy to stand aside for the moment. “Somehow Seungcheol- _hyung_ found the strength to call up a Final Strike,” he explained softly. “You know, those insta-kill manoeuvres that some bosses have? I don’t know how he did it, but somehow he did. I can’t quite tell, they’re being very noisy over there but that’s Chan, Jihoon-ah’s _dongsaeng,_ arguing with him. I think we’ll get more information out of things once we get a rest and Jisoo- _hyung_ talks everyone down. Seungcheol- _hyung_ is out cold anyway. I want to go and check on him, will you…”

From Seungkwan’s other side Hansol showed up, slipping close and standing shoulder-to-shoulder with him. “I’ll watch him, _hyung_ ,” he promised with a straight face. “Too noisy for me anyway.”

Seungkwan vaguely recalled days earlier, when he hadn’t known the Medium at all and just thought of him as a burden, and his ears coloured red with guilt. He couldn’t find the words inside him now either, mind spinning too much with what had happened. Instead, hesitantly, he reached out to snaffle a bit of Hansol’s loose robes in his fingertips, clutching it for the grounding it gave him. Just a little pinch of fabric, and he looked forward without glancing sideways. “Thank you,” he muttered.

“No problem,” the Medium said easily. “If your feet still hurt when we leave, I can piggyback you. I…”

“Everyone!” Jeonghan’s voice called. “Get ready to move out to the next safe area!”

“I don’t mind,” Hansol completed.

Seungkwan took a deep, shuddering breath. “I’m your _hyung_ , I should be taking care of you.”

Hansol tilted his head as he looked at him. “I’m born in February ’98,” he said. “You’re January, right? The sixteenth? I’m only a month younger, we can just be same-age friends.”

Blinking, mind still stumbling, Seungkwan just nodded. They were at the end of the pack that cautiously travelled out after the Samurai, and his heart squeezed with embarrassment at being enough of a burden to be carried.

* * *

In a room that looked like a larder, with only one defensible exit and that barred, the group gathered in as tight a circle as they could, Seungcheol in the middle and the strange Japanese Samurai on the open end. Seungkwan watched as he put down his helmet, then slowly went through the process of taking off pieces of the silk-stitched armour, until he could finally sink down for a seat with only a set of seriously impressive Phantasmal-level swords in front of him. He ruffled faded brown hair, looked at all of them and gave a quirky little bow.

“It’s a pleasure meeting you, I’m Lee Chan, a ’99-liner. I’m…”

“I’m not the _maknae_ any longer? Yes!” Hansol carolled quietly, punching the air.

The youngest gave a quick grin, one that disappeared when Jihoon got him into a headlock. It was difficult seeing the relationship between the two; Seungkwan didn’t know whether the Samurai had taken the potion already, but he was a little taller than his brother, about as tall as he himself, but vastly more powerfully built.

“You little shit,” their Sorcerer growled. “Apologise. Right now.”

Chan reached out meekly to accept the rebuke and forehead-flick that came through before he was allowed to slump down. “Sorry, _hyung_ ,” he muttered.

Seokmin wiggled closer. “Why didn’t you answer me, Channie?” he asked.

“I didn’t…” He sighed. “This is a Japanese account, I was only hosting on the Korean server as an advanced scout, so I think it’s patched differently than yours? I’ve been having problems with the interface as well.’”

“Oh no,” Seokmin murmured sadly. “That sucks so much to be cut off like that…”

“I’m tired of this place,” Jeonghan said briefly, almost spitefully. “This larder isn’t going to hold forever. Minghao-ah, scout us somewhere where we can lay low for a day or so. Size doesn’t really matter, safety does.”

Minghao, glancing once towards Jisoo, nodded and flashed away, disappearing as he moved into stealth. They waited no more than a few minutes before he returned and beckoned them onwards, scooting past one disabled trap and thence around into a small room, one built into the spiral of the main palace with a single large window to the outside on the far end of it. “It was the closest I could find,” he apologised softly. “I thought we should have an exit in case we need to flee.”

Jisoo managed a nod before he motioned to Soonyoung. “Put him down here,” he murmured. “Wonwoo-ya, come and have a look.”

Jeonghan sunk down next to Jisoo, spreading out a cloak to put Seungcheol down on. “Hansol-ah,” he instructed seamlessly. “Take care of Kwannie’s feet if they still hurt. You, Chan-ssi, come over here.”

It felt like some kind of clockwork as the rest sorted themselves out, dividing into guards for both fronts with the injured in the middle. Soonyoung marshalled the others into setting up wards, shields and illusions, building up the safe space as much as they could.

It was all Seungkwan could do to hobble into the little space in the centre. He felt like crying like a baby; his feet were absolutely killing him and his hands hadn’t quite recovered from earlier, despite the fact that Adventurer bodies were supposed to be much stronger than normal Lander ones. Gnawing on his lower lip, he closed his eyes as Hansol tugged off his shoes. They were in shreds; whatever those fish were, they had gotten through them in seconds flat, which would have amazed him if he didn’t _hurt so much from being too prideful_.

He felt himself fade in and out as Hansol prodded at his feet, spreading clean water over and gently washing them. At his side somewhere he could hear Wonwoo chanting over Seungcheol’s body, and over in another direction Jihoon was scolding his little brother…

_It’s ok,_ a small part of his mind insisted. _You’'re safe with them._

His concentration scattered as Hansol picked something out of his foot, losing that connection he had had, and sheer shock curled out of his throat into a low moan. The pain took him back to middle school, to the awful day the man had found him, and something in him sharpened before he lost it in a wave of queasy, dim grey light.

“Wonwoo- _hyung_ ,” Hansol called. “I’m going to need your help. There’s…”

That’s as far as Seungkwan got before he passed out, slumping very gently into arms that reached to catch him.

* * *

Wonwoo, drawn from Seungcheol’s side, cursed as he skidded closer on his knees, propping the fainted boy up. One look at his feet made him wince, as did the bloody residue and tiny little teeth still stuck in one bite. It might – _would_ – still have been ok if the wounds didn’t have an unhealthy purple cast to them, one confirmed when he accessed Seungkwan’s party screen with a curse. The status effect blinked on and off slowly and sluggishly, not only halting any regeneration Hansol had tried to impart, but ate backwards at his health.

“What’s going on with him?” Jun asked quietly as he hunkered down at Hansol’s side. “Did he expend too much energy again?”

Wonwoo bit on the inside of his cheek. “I don’t know,” he muttered. “Mingyu-ya, did you take any of the fish from the dining room for provisions?”

Their druid lifted his head. “ _Hyung_?” he queried. “No, we hurried out of there too quickly. Besides, it was a bit gross…?”

“Come and see if you can get rid of this status effect.”

A few minutes later, they were forced to admit defeat. The effect didn’t shift, not even when they tried in concert. Hansol, sitting with Seungkwan’s feet on his lap, grimly did all he could in washing them clean and removing the little teeth; Wonwoo, irritated, shuffled back to Seungcheol’s side. “Not good,” he said shortly to Jeonghan and Jisoo. “Unless any of you have heard of an effect called ‘Talion of the Bounding Main’ before.”

Jisoo shook his head as he combed locks of sweaty hair off Seungcheol’s forehead, checking his temperature afterwards.

“Why are you doing that?” Jihoon asked as he came closer, leaving a chastened-looking young Samurai behind him. “Channie says that there’s only the last access gate ahead; the last time he snuck through, he didn’t trigger the event, but he heard it and came back for us.”

Jisoo looked up at him. “Why am I doing what?” he asked, looking slightly baffled.

“Why are you taking his temperature? We’re trapped in a game, right? It’s not real?”

The bafflement increased on Jisoo’s fine-featured face. “I… what? Jihoon-ah…”

Jeonghan reached over and smartly pinched Jihoon on the inside of his arm, adding a vicious twist, hard enough to make him yelp and scuttle back. “Feel that?” he asked idly as Jihoon yelped and nodded. “Pain is pain here, even if you have good healers. And even then it’s about comfort as much as healing.”

Hansol turned away to ignore them, looking up as Mingyu scooted into the space Wonwoo had left. The druid had a worried look on his face, but then he had been one of the first to form a bond with Seungkwan. He watched him pale as he looked at the wounds and the purple cast to it, and his fingers ruffled the guy’s sweaty fringe off his forehead. _The two of them are good together,_ he thought uneasily. _Mingyu-hyung is tall and kind, and Seungkwan is annoyingly loud and naggy, they’ll get on well as friends. I wish I could make friends as easily. We’re the same age, it would be good to be friends…_

_If Seungkwan woke up,_ his mind reminded him, and he bit his lower lip on the inside not to say it out loud.

His gaze trailed around, looking around vaguely for something to heal his comrade with, fighting the need of his mind to flee as it sometimes wanted to. It was part of the reason why everyone thought he was a stoner, part of the reason why…

His mind hiccupped as he looked at Jun and Minghao in the corner, knowing he’d have to go and help set traps soon. Frowning, he scooted away on his butt and closer to the quiet Chinese assassin, who broke off the stream of Mandarin as he came closer. The both of them looked at him, one quizzically, one warmly.

“Hansol-ah,” Jun greeted. “We could use some of your arrows here.”

“In, um, in a minute, _hyung_ ,” Hansol muttered, choosing to focus on the assassin instead. “Minghao- _ssi_ …”

The assassin tilted his head. “You can call me ge if you want? Or _hyung_?”

Hansol swallowed and nodded. “Minghao- _hyung_ , um, you’ve worked with poisons before, right?” At Minghao’s slight nod, he looked over his shoulder to Seungkwan, then back. “It’s something that the dude with the tail said. About preparing a special meal. It reminded me of that fish that people in Japan eat because it has to be especially prepared. I don’t know much about it…”

“Japan?” a cheerful voice said at their side. “What about Japan?”

Hansol barely remained in his hunker; he hadn’t heard the new _maknae_ of the group even walk up to them. “Um… that fish that they serve in Japan that’s so poisonous.”

The guy blinked. “ _Fugu_?” he asked easily. “Pufferfish? The chefs train for years to serve it safely.”

“Yeah,” Hansol said slowly. “Like _bokguk_? But I was thinking, what if poison works differently now that we’re, um, here? So I thought I’d ask…”

Chan took a deep breath. “You think he’s been poisoned by _fugu_? I thought he was bitten! But wow, that would be an awesome kind of thing, right? The revenge of the oceans! Fish finally rising up to throw off the heavy hand of the mam…” He broke off to a cough as the three of them looked at him, wide-eyed. “I guess? But it’s pretty statistically unlikely, and wouldn’t your healer be able to lift a simple poison effect? I mean, you guys don’t suck that much, right? Ani… _hyung_ ’s guild is good!”

Hansol slowly scooted away, feeling excessively stupid. “I guess. I’ll… um, I’ll go and take care of the traps.”

Minghao’s hand lashed out to catch at his sleeve, eyes still on Chan’s smiling face. “Not all poisons are straightforward,” he reprimanded. “Especially if it’s concealed as another type of status effect. Wonwoo- _hyung_!”

Hansol, still snagged, watched as Titan’s Snap scooted together. He felt Chan’s eyes on his neck, gave him a shamefaced grimace, and looked away.

“Let’s be good friends, Hansol- _ssi_!” the samurai said brightly. “I like your eyes, they have power in them. You see a lot others don’t, huh?”

Mumbling a vague agreement, Hansol fled to go and check traps. _Don’t wanna be nasty, but this guy’s a creep. Sorry, Jihoon-hyung…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   * [Tetrodotoxin](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tetrodotoxin) is pretty toxic and generally most known for getting it from _fugu_ that hasn't been properly prepared, but can also enter the body through methods like injection and abraded wounds. 
>   * Chan is being a creepy little fish-supremacist mess right now, but there's a reason. 
> 



	11. Arc I: Baksu

Seungcheol felt weariness sink into his bones as he slowly drifted to consciousness. He had been dreaming of a black and white world, walking there with someone important, but it faded as he attuned to the world around him again. It was quiet but he could distantly hear the guild’s breathing around him, and his head was propped up on something a little less hard than the ground. Still a little bony, but he was warm and comfortable and for a minute he relaxed like that, letting normality soak back into him.

There was a bonfire’s heat in his stomach; if he had been younger he would have thought it arousal and not the strange banked bonfire it was. He propped one eye open against the desire to go to sleep again, eyeing the length of thigh close to his face.

_Jisoo_ , his senses insisted. _Head on his lap. That’s Jeonghan’s blonde hair in front of me, he must be asleep as well. Jisoo?_

No murmurs came as he sat up straight in the huddle of limbs. Jihoon was quite close, wrapped protectively around a young man he didn’t know. Mingyu, Seokmin and Seungkwan were curled up in a pile like puppies. There wasn’t enough light to see the others, only a spark of it as the guard turned his head from the window and luminosity sparked off his eyes like a cat’s. _Soonyoung._ It wasn’t odd to see him on watch duty, somehow. Though the guy’s body was slightly smaller than his, Seungcheol didn’t bet on his odds if they were fighting one-on-one, not with his crazy regeneration.

He exited the knot of sleeping figures as quietly as he could and made his way to Soonyoung’s side, sinking down in a hunker that made his bones crack. That close he saw something that surprised him; it hadn’t been obvious before, but the monk still had vertical pupils like the tiger he liked to pattern himself after. “What happened?” he asked softly, taking care to keep his tone low.

“After you passed out?” Soonyoung asked. At Seungcheol’s nod, he sighed. “Well, you missed seeing Chan come back for us, and the aftermath of the event. Kwannie was badly hurt, they only managed to cure him a little while ago. They had to cure him of a cursed poison or something… he’s okay now, but it was bad. Jeonghan- _hyung_ and Jisoo-ssi were running things for a while. We’re still on the second level, the dining room’s barely five doors down from this one, but so far nothing’s come to bother us. Everyone’s trying to recover a little.”

Seungcheol nodded. “That Chan?” he asked, jutting his chin to the young-looking guy Jihoon was wrapped around.

Soonyoung spared a look. “Yup,” he said easily. “Lee Chan.”

Counting bodies, Seungcheol still only ended up at twelve, straining to see who wasn’t there. “Where’s…”

“Hansol-ah?” Soonyoung asked first. “Keeping guard in the corridor beyond,” he muttered, frown vaguely showing in the moonlight. “He volunteered.”

Seungcheol took a look at the door, tried to imagine the young medium sitting out there alone, staring down a corridor that could fill with enemies at any moment. “I don’t know if that’s the wisest,” he finally said. “He’s very quiet, isn’t he?”

Soonyoung turned his attention from the window for a moment, regarding him fully. “Hansol-ah has a very innocent heart,” he explained softly. “He’s a pacifist in a world geared around violence now. Sometimes it’s difficult to pin him down, because his thoughts are like a butterfly’s. He’s sturdy though, like a rock. You can depend on him. He’s just heart-sore.”

Seungcheol blinked, taken aback a little. “Soonyoung- _ssi_ ,” he said eventually, teasing. “You have the sense of a poet.” Sobering at the slight hue of embarrassment on the monk’s cheeks, he sighed. “Why are you with them?” he asked. “A dragon hunter, a monk that could stand on equal footing with the best, I would have expected you to be in a larger guild.”

Soonyoung gave him a puffy-cheeked hamster smile. “I like gaming with my friends!” He paused, face falling. “Speaking of, the _maknae_ of your guild…”

“Kwannie?”

Soonyoung nodded. “He’s not healed. I mean, his body is healed, but I saw the ghosts in his eyes when he woke up. I’ve worked with children like that in dance outreach programs before. I’d keep an eye on him if I were you.”

Seungcheol grimaced and nodded, standing. He clapped Soonyoung on the shoulder and scooted to the door, slipping quietly through it. Hansol’s eyes were on him immediately, but he kept it to a small smile as Seungcheol sank down next to him.

“Hansol-ah,” he said easily, smiling at the small press of the medium’s shoulder against his. “How’s the bow doing?”

Hansol smiled down at the bow over his knees, fingers caressing the sleek curves of it. “She’s doing well,” he said proudly. “Still holding up well. The enchantments are holding up as well.” He cleared his throat. “I looked at Angel’s Bane for you as well, I hope you don’t mind. Um, the new guy wanted to take a look at it, since he’s a swordsmith, but Jisoo- _hyung_ said you’d prefer me.”

Seungcheol clapped a hand on his shoulder. “I do.” A quick look at Hansol’s status screen made him smile. “And you levelled up in that last fight, I see? Well done!”

Hansol’s grin bloomed. “Thank you.” He looked back down the corridor. “You’re the only one that noticed straight off.” He paused. “You, um, you went down two. What happened?”

“I’m not sure yet… We’ll throw you a party once we’re out of here, ok?” Seungcheol promised. “I do have a question though. Why are you out here?”

Hansol looked away uneasily. “Less distraction out here?” he muttered. “I don’t know. Things just feel… strange. Back there. I’ll be glad when we get out of here, this place is evil. I had a dream earlier…”

Seungcheol frowned at that. The palace wasn’t fun, but he wouldn’t have described it as ‘evil’ in the way the medium seemed to mean it. “Hansol-ah, are you a _baksu_?”

Hansol blinked at that. “Am I… _clap?”_ he asked, pronouncing it easily in English. “Are you asking me if I am applauding?” His voice screwed up, turned a little doubtful.

“The other _baksu_ ,” Seungcheol repeated wearily, reminding himself that most of his countrymen were as agnostic as the rugs they walked on. “As in a priest, or a shaman.”

“Well, it’s my class?” At Seungcheol’s shake of head, Hansol frowned. “I’m not… we’re not really religious, I guess,” he said uneasily. “My mother is sort of lapsed, and my father doesn’t care. If there’s anything like that, I’m not aware of it. I guess not?”

“Pay attention to what you’re feeling in any case,” Seungcheol said, crossing his fingers. “We’ll be out of here bright and early. What did you dream about?” He watched Hansol’s head droop tiredly and frowned, shuffling closer to give him the comfort of a shoulder pressed against his.

“It was about the Tombs of Time,” Hansol eventually got out. “But not where we were. Deeper. Much deeper, and then Fakerr and his heap of gold, and all around me the buzzing of insects. There was a guy with silvery hair, but I couldn’t see his face above the chains holding him. I… uh, woke up soon after that and came out here to keep watch instead. That’s about when the new guy woke me up for my watch shift.”

“Right,” Seungcheol said slowly. “Hopefully it just stays a bad dream, Hansol-ah, but I’ll keep on the lookout anyway.”

Hansol brightened, offering him a fist-bump. “Glad to have you back, _hyung_.”

Grinning, Seungcheol reciprocated. “Me too,” he shared. “But I’m gonna go inside and see if I can catch another hour or so. Don’t stay out here too long, okay?”

Hansol’s thumbs-up reassured him; when he entered the room again it was as quiet as it had been, smelling slightly of sweaty-salty guys. He ignored it to rest on the spot he had previously, falling asleep before he felt Jisoo’s hand come down on his head again.

* * *

Morning dawned.

Seungcheol woke up from voices shushing the others, and had to suffer through yells of happiness when he woke up. Between Seungkwan nearly throttling him in a hug, and the new guy smiling and bobbing a bow and Jisoo’s hand on his collar, his wits slowly rallied, helped by the cup of tea that Jeonghan miraculously produced by sweet-talking Mingyu. He sipped and listened, stood to stretch his spine until it cracked and looked around.

“First of all, I’d like to say thank you to Atelier Destiny for coming so far in helping us when the help we rendered didn’t measure up,” he began, earning an eye-roll from Jeonghan. “Especially for the last bit. Since we’re free to leave now though, I thought we’d scoot down to that exit point on the other side of Hado and get back to Busan? We can talk when we’re in an inn.”

“Hado?” Chan asked, visibly boggling. “You came through Hado to reach here?”

Seungcheol blinked. “Yes?”

“But… wow. Hado. Wow.”

“The power of brotherhood!” Soonyoung said loudly, pointedly leaning out of the way of the kick Jihoon sent his way.

Chan smiled uneasily. “I guess. And you wanted to just leave? You don’t want to finish this dungeon? No one’s made it on this server, you know, just a group in Oceania, I think. Your save point will go away…”

Seungcheol looked to Jisoo, then Jeonghan, and finally shook his head. “I don’t think anyone feels the desire to finish this. We only came to rescue you, Chan- _ssi_.”

Minghao cleared his throat. “Wouldn’t mind,” he said. “But then as the only thing to focus on, not as part of a rescue mission.”

“Chops is right,” Jihoon muttered. “We’re leaving, Channie. Our healers and supports need the rest. You’re coming with.”

Chan looked ready to argue a second more, but nodded with a sigh, lowering his head. “Okay,” he muttered, clearly unhappy with it.

They packed and left out the window rather than chancing the treacherous palace again; within fifteen minutes, they stood facing the light dawn playing over the waters and the high-tech city of Busan shooting daggers of light at them from the horizon. It was a passage of less than an hour; they were settled in a comfortable inn after a round of showers and changes into fresh clothes.

It was when Seungcheol checked in on the resources to be merged that he noticed it first, and looked to Jun. The fighter was seated very quietly talking about regional hot-pot with Mingyu; Seungcheol didn’t _think_ he actually knew that he was massaging Seungkwan’s feet on his lap, the action seemed entirely unconscious. “Jun-ah,” he got out, trying to understand. “When you… when you bought all those buildings for us in Daegu and you sorted out the guild thing, did you perhaps forget to explain all the way?”

Jun looked up at him with big eyes, and Seungcheol had to remind himself again that no one, _no one_ could get to the level he had gotten by being the fool he chose to portray.

“ _Hyung_?” Jun said. “I don’t get what you mean?”

Jisoo, peeking into the ‘ledger’ that had all the details of the guild’s holdings, frowned. “Cheol-ah?”

Seungcheol’s finger tapped on an entry low in the list, though he didn’t look away from Jun. “You said you bought quite a few places,” he said. “I just don’t recall a _Level 10 guild hall_ on the roster. One of those is worth almost a million gold, what the hell?”

Jun tilted his head. “Oh? But I told you about Logos’ guild house, right? I remember telling you that we absorbed it into Atelier Destiny.”

Seungcheol felt gut-punched. “I thought they had some shitty little inn somewhere…!”

“ _Hyung_!” Seungkwan scolded. “Language!”

Seungcheol rolled his eyes at him before fixing Jun with his gaze again. “Where’d you even get a million gold?” he asked, half-scandalised.

Jun sighed softly, garnering a squeak of unhappiness as he stopped massaging Seungkwan’s feet. “I didn’t pay for it,” he said slowly. “I told you we absorbed it. We got all their holdings. Their actual gold went into buying out the other assets and some, um, ventures. Look, if this is about how little gold we have left…”

“You have over five hundred thousand in your guild bank!” Seungcheol moaned. “That’s not ‘little’!”

Jeonghan bothered himself to stir from across the table. “That’s little to him.”

“True,” Minghao piped up. “We've always been able to buy property on the Chinese server.His, um, guild owns the Golden River League back on the Chinese servers. That’s before he…” He broke off, looked at Jun for a moment, and cleared his throat. “Before he decided to play on the Korean servers.”

Seungcheol frowned, tilting his head. “You own a river?” he asked curiously.

“Cheol,” Jeonghan sighed. “The Golden River League’s actual area is about as big as Mongolia. Everything in the south of China stretching from Nanjing to about Hanoi.”

Seungcheol sat down, shakily rubbing at his face. “I can’t deal any longer,” he muttered. “I can’t. How do you even want a guild merger? You guys could probably buy assistance directly from anyone…”

The clink of a cup of coffee settled down in front of him. “We’ve already spoken,” Soonyoung said as he sat down, distributing his tray with coffees, two to a stomach-growling Jihoon. “You guys are decent, perhaps the first decent people we’ve met in some time. But we’re not Titan’s Snap any more than you are Atelier Destiny. We were thinking about a new guild. One for all of us, so we’re all in one group, not just two tiny guilds travelling together.” His eyes practically glinted. “I vote we call it Hoshi!”

“The cook was interested in how I made the coffee,” Mingyu said as he slipped into the booth as well. “Reckon there’s some kind of opportunity there. What are we talking about? Guilds? And… what? Hoshi?”

Chan, silent until now in a corner, perked. “I like stars,” he said happily.

“Er, no… Korean Hoshi, like a tiger’s gaze?”

Jihoon snorted from Chan’s other side. “You’re not a tiger,” he said around the two straws in his mouth.

“What?” Soonyoung called, standing to place his hands on the table. “I dare you to say that again, you mi…”

Seungcheol hastily yanked Soonyoung down. “It’s a very strong name,” he said hastily. “But perhaps something that fits all of us?”

Names were shouted around the table, one turned down quicker than another, before Hansol cleared his throat. “What about ‘Seventeen’?” he asked as they quieted. “Thirteen members, with three leaders, and one purpose?” He paused. “Well, I’m guessing that Seungcheol- _hyung_ , Jisoo- _hyung_ and Jeonghan- _hyung_ will be our three leaders anyway. So…” He shrank bank as they stayed quiet. “Or you don’t have to, of course.”

“I like it,” Mingyu said happily. “What’s our purpose?”

“To go strongly forward into the future and becoming men our family and friends can be proud of,” Wonwoo said with gravitas from his spot next to Minghao. “With wisdom, and dignity, and courage.”

Seungcheol’s eyes prickled and he had to fight tears. “Seventeen,” he said softly. “I like that.”

Across the table Mingyu smiled a small, utterly sweet smile at him as he lifted his iced coffee. “To Seventeen!”

Across the inn, filtering into their booth, someone sang sweetly, accompanied by what sounded like a harp of sorts. No real melody to it, just a song that rose and fell, rose and fell.

Seokmin, chin in hand, tilted his head to it as he spoke. “We’ll have to register it at the guild hall here, if they’ll let us in. Or do we want to go back to Daegu and settle there?” He paused. “She really has a lovely voice,” he muttered, sounding half-envious; without seeming effort, he softly hummed a counterpoint to the song. “Did you know they only have a few songs? Sad, isn’t it?”

“Thank you for inviting me into your guild!” Chan said hastily, voice crashing over the soft song. “But I have a server to get back to, and…”

Seokmin broke off to smile at him. “The gates are offline, you know? We can’t really travel to the other countries unless we want to do so as actual travel, I think.”

The youngest frowned. “No way. But… but Japan is so close to here, we just have to get to Tsushima and then it’s almost just a hop across the ocean to Iki? That’s so close to Fukuoka it’s not even funny…”

“A hop that’s filled with raid-level boss fights,” Jisoo said around a sip of coffee. “It might also be easier to work out how to get the gates going again rather than cross the ocean. I’d rather not find out if I can drown in this iteration of the game.”

Jihoon opened his eyes from the place his head had slanted back against the backrest. “You’ll have to stay with us for now, Channie.” His lips pinched tightly as Chan’s mouth fell open to protest. “No excuses.”

The members around the table looked away uncomfortably, unwilling to face the suddenly tense atmosphere.

“We’ll go to the guild and register,” Seungcheol decided. “I…”

Fabric rustled as Seungkwan sat up straight, eyes focused on someone in the distance. “ _Hyung_ ,” he half-whispered. “ _Hyung_ , look. It’s not possible, is it? It’s not, right?”

Seungcheol look and froze. The man standing at the bar was tall and elegant, with such pale skin that his red hair looked like blood against it; from the way that fangs flashed when he spoke to the bartender, it might as well have been. Though he was a Vampanella, there was no mistaking the angles of the face, aristocratic and smooth with a murderer’s craze deep in his eyes. _Park Donghyun_ , his mind supplied with little trouble. _How did he get access to the game again? I thought he had been banned after that incident, or has he stolen someone’s account? How is he doing this from prison?_

“It’s Croesus, _hyung_ , isn’t it?” Seungkwan’s voice came, cutting through the roar in Seungcheol’s chest to protect his pack. “Isn’t it?”

The last was too loud, frantically begging as it was, and caught the man’s attention. He looked around at them, first at Seungcheol, then at Seungkwan, and his smile went terribly bleak around the fangs.

Jihoon moved from slouching to lunging in what seemed a second flat; Seungcheol didn’t even try to stop him. That task fell to Minghao, who reeled him back in and practically sat on him as the Vampanella idled closer. With each step Seungkwan slid a little further in behind Mingyu’s tall bulk. Chan, smiling uncannily, watched the standoff as the man stepped closer and for a moment Seungcheol’s nerves buzzed with dissonance: the youngest practically had a slasher smile as he watched Croesus walk to their table.

Unexpectedly it was Jisoo that stood and wandered over to go and speak to him. Their conversation was quiet and hushed, but Jisoo had a face like ice when the man snarled and turned away, and it didn’t ease as he returned to his guild.

“Joshuji?” Jeonghan questioned quietly into the terrible silence. “What did he want?”

Jisoo shook his head. “It’s not important,” he said remotely. “Let’s go and get some sleep.” He reached across the table to Seungkwan, pulling him up. “Come on, walk with _hyung_. The inn isn’t far from here, I think. After that…”

Seungkwan pulled to a halt, eyes wide. “ _Hyung_ , has he formed another guild?” he asked bluntly. “Is he behind that mess in Daegu? Is he… are we safe?”

“Yes, he has,” Jisoo said softly, but with a hard voice. And then, again, “Yes, he is behind Primacy. And no, we’re not.” He lifted his head to stare at Seungcheol across Seungkwan’s shoulder. “And that’s why we’re going to go to the guild hall later, get everything done, and we’re going to take this city, and we’re going to fucking _crush_ him.”

In the silence that followed, marked primarily by members of both guilds scurrying out to join Jisoo and Seungkwan, Jeonghan managed a grimaced smile to Seungcheol. “I thought he was a soft gentleman type?”

Heat burnt in Seungcheol’s chest, pride and appreciation and anger wrapped up in a complex knot. “He is,” he said equally as softly. “But then there’s his other side. You don’t harm Jisoo’s precious people. You just don’t. If I were a better person, I’d be feeling sorry for that asshole. But I’m not, so I’m not. Problem?”

“No,” Jeonghan said at length. “Just a little turned on, honestly.” He shot Seungcheol a devilish smile and wandered after, leaving the eldest to stand there and splutter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   * Chops is Jihoon's favourite nickname for Minghao, hailing from much earlier in their friendship when Jihoon suggested his skills were as bad as the main character in an infamous (non-real) B-movie about ninjas. Think a really bad American Ninja remake, which was already a terrible movie. 
>   * For those that don't want to look it up on a map, there's a little bit over a thousand miles of real-life distance between Nanjing and Hanoi, which means the Chinese guild owns about 500 miles of prime South China as property. 
>   * I don't know if there is actually a person, famous or otherwise, known as Park Donghyun in real life? I just had to pick a name. 
> 



	12. Arc I: Boss Fight I

A day later Seungcheol watched his guys as they clambered off the griffins at the small lagoon they had defeated Hado in. News had travelled to Busan that places could be bought, but miraculously none had yet, prices skyrocketing. The help from the Landers in Daegu had been vastly more than they thought; along with free room at a good inn that night, it had stretched to jacking up the prices so high that no one could afford anything yet. As the stone-faced Lander estate agent here had informed them, it would buy them time, but they’d have to pay the higher prices as well, server rules were not easily bent.

When Jun had asked how much for the whole district, Seungcheol had nearly passed out until Chan reminded them there was still an entire shell palace of gold out there. Between the loot from the crab and whatever the end boss was, it would surely be enough if they sold their holdings in Daegu outright to the Landers to make up the rest. They hadn’t stopped to register, just scrambled towards the island.

Jihoon had very quietly taken the Celadon Gauntlets he had already won and put it up on auction. Everyone had gone through their gear, donated what they didn’t really need. Seungkwan still had ink stains on his face from the scrolls and enchants he and Seokmin collaborated on and that even now filled their inventories.

Everyone had busted their asses.

He wished he felt less dread and more pride.

“Alright,” he said, squatting down on the sandy section of the lagoon before the steps. “We’re thirteen now, so still a bit understrength for this dungeon, since it’s normally for three parties. Come on, come closer. First of all, Chan-ah, I’m not that familiar with the Samurai class, so where do you do best?”

Their youngest duck-walked a little closer. “I’m like Kenshin!” he said happily, expression falling when the rest looked at him blankly. “It’s from an anime? Anyway, like my mentor I use a speed style; thought I have the set I use only Ishikiri, really. I…”

“Wait, Rurouni Kenshin?” Mingyu blurted out from the side. “That guy that didn’t so much start fights, but put them down if they started shit with him? The one with the, uh, funny katana?”

“Yes!” Chan enthused brightly. “You’ve seen it? Tenken- _san_ …” He stilled as Seungcheol cleared his throat. “Yes, sorry, put me on the front lines, sorry. I tank well.”

“Jihoon- _hyung_ ,” Seungkwan said sweetly from the side. “He really did get his anime love from you, huh? Do you have body pillows with scantily clad anime girls on them, _hyung_?”

Seungcheol ignored the scuffle that ensued, too used to it to be phased and secretly glad Seungkwan was getting his spirit back. “We don’t know the mechanics of these fights,” he muttered. “We’ll adapt on the fly. I’m tanking, along with Soonyoung-ah and Chan-ah. Hannie, Jun, I’m putting you on second rank, get ready to off-tank or slip to a DPS build to support Minghao-ah and Jihoon-ah. Support will be Jisoo, Seokmin-ah and Seungkwan-ah. Healers, we don’t know what damage to watch for, so Wonwoo-ya will lead, with Mingyu-ya and Hansol-ah as his supports.”

“If you can catch some soft-shelled crabs I have a recipe for really good crab cakes!” Mingyu said breathlessly. “If we can get a lot of food items that’ll be good, I can set up a demonstration with the food…”

Jun nodded hard on his heels. “We can sell that for a _lot_ if we’re quick.”

Seungcheol took a deep breath. “Okay. We need to make at least fifteen million, if not more, so we'll go through dungeons until we get that. First stop, that crab that sat on the small mountain of gold.”

* * *

Seungcheol hunkered down in the corridor that led up to the final boss, armour still wet from the exploding crab as Seokmin doled out a few of his precious scrolls to get everyone back up to full MP. They had gone through him on fast forward, nowhere near Hado’s difficulty, with Chan leading them upwards on the other, emptier route he had previously travelled. “Wonwoo,” he called, chin-nodding to his healer. “What do you recall of this encounter? Only one group has won it so far?”

The Ritian nodded as he examined Gesshoku; the staff had been _off_ somehow in the last encounter. “A group from Polynesia, I believe. On the Oceania server in any case. I tried to read the encounter log that they provided, but it wasn’t very informative – my French isn’t that good, and there hadn’t been a translation yet. From what I know the boss has a stiff enrage timer, and the fight is extremely finicky tank-wise. There was something about aggro management, but that’s about where my understanding ended. They hadn’t even gotten the video up before the Cataclysm happened…”

“It’s not an enrage timer,” Chan chimed in from the side.

Seungcheol blinked, transferring his gaze to their maknae. “You’ve seen some info on the fight?” he asked, careful to throttle down the irritation that the boy had cut Wonwoo off.

Chan nodded with smiling eyes. “It’s a drowning timer!”

For a moment all Seungcheol could do was stare, and the worried gazes around the circle quintupled.

“What?” Mingyu asked flatly. “How do you mean?”

“A friend on the Japanese server translated a little for us. In the second and third phases, the room sort of fills up with water, and there’s no way of stopping it as it climbs slowly. If you take too long, you run out of air or something? I didn’t hear much more than that. There was some kind of secret strategy, but they were withholding that for the video. All I really remember is that they had a full three groups and they had a good off-tank team.”

Jihoon’s eyes widened almost comically. “Are you serious? What else?”

Chan grimaced and shrugged, sitting back on his spot. “I don’t know more, sorry.” he muttered.

“ _Hyung_ ,” Seungkwan volunteered. “ _Hyung_ , we can turn back, you don’t need to worry about me…”

Seungcheol had spent years playing with Jisoo; hell, he knew the guy offline like he knew Jihoon, and he could practically feel the unhappiness radiating from his friend. Hell, he felt the same. He even spotted Jisoo leaning closer to speak, but Hansol spoke up instead.

“I don’t understand much what’s going on,” he said, gaze momentarily back from wherever he looked. “But Seungkwan- _hyung_ came to help us when we were struggling through the Tombs of Time simply because we asked. He was even waiting outside the dungeon when we rocked up there, and he had bought us snacks, and he didn’t have to.” His jaw tightened mutinously. “He didn’t leave us there. We’re not going to leave here.” 

Jihoon gaped at that, and Chan looked like he didn’t quite understand but beatific despite that; the whole of the old Titan’s Snap looked to be having trouble with the declaration, whilst Atelier Destiny just smiled and Mingyu reached over to ruffle Hansol’s hair with a tiny fang-baring grin. “Well said,” he said, hand drooping to Hansol’s shoulder afterwards. “And what’s that, you still remember those snacks, huh?”

Hansol ignored that last stoically. Seungkwan, blushing blood-red, mumbled a thank you, which he ignored as well.

Jeonghan stood and plucked his _hanbok_ straight. “Hansol-ah is right,” he said, voice like a clarion. “Less talking about not doing it, more talking about how to do it. If it’s tank-heavy I’m suggesting Seungcheol and Chan right in front, flanked by Jun and Soonyoung. We simply don’t have enough information to know what’s going to happen in the fight, so there’s no use in planning a lot – no insulted intended, Wonwoo-ya.”

Wonwoo shook his head as he stood. “None taken,” he said stoically. “I’ll gather information as we go through the first time, we’ll probably wipe and end up back here. I’ll be able to tell after that. For the moment we can treat it like Ohiro.” He frowned into the air. “Chan, is your telepathy still giving trouble?”

Chan nodded mournfully. “Sorry, _hyung_ ,” he apologised. “I’m thinking it must be some kind of localisation bug after that last patch…”

“Okay, just keep on top of your health then, and let me know when you need to rotate out.”

Unwilling to belabor the point any longer, Seungcheol merely nodded and led the way to the big doors.

The room beyond was massive, taking up the entire top floor of the main body of the palace. Like the tall aquarium they saw below, the floor of the place bore intricate paintings with mermaids and nymphs frolicking around in an azure sea amidst clouds of what looked like seaweed. Around the room there were galleries stretching up towards the back of the room, vaulted ceilings borne aloft by gigantic statues that served as support columns, intricately carved to resemble merfolk. The walls between were indistinct, shelled in the same blue as the floor.

Jun, part of the front rank of the tanks, blinked as he looked at the strange chamber, moving to squint over the railings. “There are corpses down there,” he said wonderingly. “Between everything as you look down. Trapped, here and there.”

Above them the roof of the building groaned, then pulled back as they watched wonderingly. The gigantic merfolk moved, extending tridents into the mosaic floor. As the weapons emerged as one, they bore a pearl between them, moving it up to crown the open roof. It pulled water with it, thin curtains of it that splashed against and through them, leaving them gasping and wet. The pearl split open along the bottom, just a little, and a massive figure emerged from it. It was neither man nor merman nor fish, being instead an uneasy amalgam of octopus and humanoid, clearly powerful and clad in blue-green robes with golden plates of armour over it. It had many limbs, most having only claws, but held a huge crystal trident as well, one that shone with subdued radiance and matched a crown on his head.

All of them stood there gawking for a moment. The creature seemed so large that it couldn’t quite fit on the open space, and they watched as it clung to the side of the main bulk of the building. Its breath smelled like a thousand dead fish when it roared, and around the room four pillars of water sprang up, circling around him in a hypnotic pattern that seemed to cut them off from the actual boss.

“Holy… snack,” Soonyoung said with deep reverence, fingers crooking in his gloves. “Where are we going to get a stockpot big enough to cook _that?_ ”

Minghao giggled nervously as the thing roared again.

“Korianos, That Which Is,” Wonwoo read from the screen up in front of him. “Level 90. Immunities: water, poison, ice, dazing, sleep effects…”

“Just tell us what to use!” Seungcheol called as the thing roared a third time and the tanks engaged. He and Chan dashed forward with Jun and Soonyoung going for the far positions, like they would have arranged themselves for Ohiro. He barely made it out of the limit imposed by the pillars; the vortexes sped up to try and run all of them down as the DPS arranged themselves in the second rank.

“Fire!” Wonwoo yelled back. “Just use Fire!”

Seungcheol swung Angel’s Bane off his back and set his feet, stabbing his two-hander into the small platform in front of him. “Taunting Shout!” he yelled, putting as much punch into it as he could. The yell rippled from him, oddly loud in the air, arcing towards the gigantic monster that clung to the side of the building. From the corner of his eye he could see the other tanks rocket into place, spotted the glitter of Jun’s fans, heard Soonyoung’s loud roar. It rippled from the monk’s chest as if it had teeth; the other two added their yells to it, and he held his hand out to Angel’s Bane. “Now!” he roared out, melding his yell in with his group’s.

_Wonwoo:: DPS first wave, five seconds… four, three, two…now!_

Korianos paused as his attention dragged up; he locked onto the four tanks’ aggro generation just like Ohiro generally did, and the building groaned as he moved to face Soonyoung. The monk kept roaring, spreading his claws, and golden light flickered as Jeonghan, Minghao and Jihoon dashed in from the sides, timing the taunt to perfection.

“Orb of Lava!” Jihoon yelled as fire ignited around his gloves, spell spiking fast as he rushed the boss.

“Wait!” Wonwoo yelled. “It didn’t lock right, it’s still moving! Watch out!”

“Goat God’s Calm,” Korianos incanted thunderously, and the trident spun, warm breezes spinning off it to cut through the taunts. “Triton’s Rancor!” It swung straight through the net the tanks wove; Jeonghan barely escaped as it scraped past his path, and Minghao moved straight to shadow, escaping easily, but the trident caught Jihoon straight on, smashing him away so hard he crashed halfway through the closest statue’s left arm.

Seungcheol swore, plucked his sword out and charged forward, closing as quickly as he could. One breath, two, and the others were there with him, Jeonghan running on one side and Chan on the other. The samurai had his katana _Ishikiri_ out, a double-handed grip on it as he dashed right into the monster’s space. “Challenge of the Wolf!” he yelled, leaping into the air and slashing once, twice, then three times. _Ishikiri_ blazed steel grey as the effect kicked into being.

_Jisoo:: My Undines aren’t coming to buff Seokmin! Switching to golems to shield casting!_

_Wonwoo:: Quick, he’s already moving!_

_Jeonghan:: Incoming!_

“DPS!” Seungcheol yelled, too busy to keep it to the telepathic channels. “Three seconds!”

Four bangs sounded almost as one: Jisoo’s golem burst into being and lumbered forward, Jeonghan’s sword impacting into the side of the monster, and the sound of Minghao being smacked by the trident, flying straight at Soonyoung. The two of them curled together as they rolled, and was practically squashed by Jisoo’s golem as it charged the boss.

_Jun:: Lead! Hit with your sword when I say jump!_

Seungcheol turned, muscled Angel’s Bane around and came up swinging when he heard Jun’s voice roar a “Now!” at him that somehow echoed. His eyes boggled as he saw the Chinese fighter land light as a butterfly against the flat of his blade, using it as a springboard to jump up-up-up.

“Windmill Round!” Jun yelled, sharpened fans crossing, then crossing again, until he spun like a top, boring a wide hole in the monster’s closest arm. The path behind him glowed golden like treacle, catching the watery sun like a sudden twinkle of hope.

Korianos roared out his pain, unable to get the target so close to him, and sat back to fold his arms together. “From All Corners: Riptide,” he chanted ominously, remaining immobile as his crown started to glow.

“Take over!” Wonwoo snapped to Seungkwan as Hansol rained arrows down in the field, laying down debuff after debuff. He scooted around and towards the side Jihoon had fallen, _Gesshoku_ glowing eerily as he started a charged heal. The staff’s rings sang as the power climbed, making a noise that sounded suspiciously like panic.

Seungkwan whimpered as the party screens snapped into place in front of him. The information was a deluge washing over him and he panicked as he tried to sort it from the format Wonwoo liked. The panic deepened at the discordant, janky rings from the staff, and he reached out sideways. As if guided, Seokmin’s hand slapped into his and tightened to give him courage, allowing him a moment to get himself together. A new icon sprang up on the boss screen and he drew in breath, starting.

_Seungkwan:: New effect started, minion countdown! Fifteen seconds, clear the platform!_

Everyone rushed to get out as the vortexes of water danced faster and faster. Wonwoo had hold of Jihoon; Soonyoung practically carried both of them to the edge of the platform, but got caught. The vortex slammed him up and around, tearing at his body like a vicious blender. He screamed with the pain, roaring as Korianos impaled him on the trident and used him to stir the waters on the platform into a tropical storm.

_Seungkwan:: Blow your cooldowns! All of them, just blow them! Seokmin-hyung, damage shield!_

Magic ignited in the midst of the typhoon as Soonyoung and Seokmin obeyed. They couldn’t hear the voice-activated commands over the howling winds, but Seungkwan watched wide-eyed as the werecat came flying out of the storm to smash into the stone next to them. “Heals!” Seungkwan shouted towards Mingyu as Jisoo’s golem took up a shielding position in front of them.

Mingyu clattered down on the floor next to a bleeding, groaning Soonyoung. “He ate over 14K of damage!” he yelled back. “I can’t heal all that!”

“Wonwoo- _hyung_ , Mingyu- _hyung_ , switch!” Seungkwan yelled as water crashed into the golem, threatening to pulverise it. “Tanks, get ready! Jeonghan- _hyung_ , tank!” He spun silver prisms of light from his half-length staff, tongue feeling swollen in his mouth as the symbol there stung with the magic he poured out. “Dumping hate in three, two… one! Astral Chaff!”

The lights exploded around them like tiny fireflies as the water bore through the last of the golem, splashing at their feet with tiny, stinging fingers before the vortexes reformed. Their tanks charged forward, danced around the beams and raised aggro as fast as Seungkwan could dump it from the support section. At his side Seokmin sang like an idol, casting buff after buff on them with his golden voice as he took over from Hansol.

Wonwoo skittered back to Soonyoung and started healing as Mingyu took over at Jihoon’s side. Their sorcerer was already struggling to his feet; the druid merely pinned him back down and dug through his backpack, pulling out one of Seokmin’s scrolls to give him more MP.

Seungkwan, one eye on the boss screen, counted underneath his breath. At fifteen Korianos straightened again, and at twenty he was fully back in the fight. Jeonghan was doing his best alongside the other three, but hatred-management was building too slow compared to the healing going on, and if he got the healers now…

“Send DPS in,” Hansol said next to him. “Give me ten seconds and send them in, pull everything open. Even Jeonghan- _hyung_.”

Seungkwan looked at him, startled, but the medium’s eyes were already on the boss.

_Do I trust him?_

_Yes,_ a voice said deep inside his heart. _I do._

_Seungkwan:: DPS all in ten, nine…_

_Jeonghan:: What? He’s going to kill us, we’re not far enough yet!_

_Seungkwan:: Seven, six, do it do it do it!_

_Seungcheol:: Seungkwan?_

_Seungkwan:: Do it hyung, trust me! One…_

Hansol knelt slowly, raising his bow to the heavens. “Trap Art: Tsuchigumo’s Nest,” he incanted, and the bow exploded in his hands into an infinity of light. The incandescent bolts rained down from the heavens as their front-line fighters switched. Korianos raised his trident, swung it around and opened his mouth. “Goat God’s Calm,” he started. “Tri…”

The bolts stuck him down, kept him down like an insect mired in light, and Seungkwan’s mouth fell open. He had _never_ seen an interrupt like that before; it wasn’t that the weapon physically stopped, but it drained so much MP that the attack failed, bits and pieces of the artefact glinting like sunlight. He had barely breathed when Hansol yanked at the spiderweb-thin strings of light attached to his bow, and felt the entire heap of MP get dumped straight into his lap.

His mind swirled, stuttered and rebooted in what felt like a second. “Pulse Bullet!” he roared out, and channelled all the MP back into creating a sky full of tiny, dancing bullets. Twenty, thirty, a whole firefly’s meadow of them swirled around Korianos and dazed him, leaving him open and eating health in little stings.

_Seokmin:: DPS now! You’re full-buffed to the best I can offer!_

Minghao’s dagger glowed dark red as he jumped into the fray, zipping towards Korianos as he sank it up to the hilt in the Boss’ flesh. “Exterminate,” he growled.

Jeonghan, right next to him, ducked as the trident tried to swing past and fell back for a moment, then right back in again. “Lion Dance!” he roared, arm blurring as he started his attack sequence.

The attacks exploded against Korianos, carving deep furrows into the boss. Jisoo, practically rapping as he spoke that quickly, summoned a cloud of stinging sprites, turning them into a DoT that kept eating down at the boss’ health the second the DPS team sprang clear. Behind them, the three tanks fell back to catch their breath. Chan was the first to return, smiling his broadest smile yet.

Seungkwan couldn’t help but smile back. “Break!” he roared. “Tanks back, DPS chew him down as fast as you can! He’s a third down!”

Chan’s footsteps stumbled as if something yanked on him. Seungkwan, puzzled, watched as he stumbled to a halt. He opened his mouth to call to him, only to see him lunge to the spot where Wonwoo and Mingyu were healing their injured. The sound of Ishikiri singing with frustrated hate was loud in the sudden silence.

Korianos collapsed down on one knee, and Chan’s eyes lit up. “Mimic’s Revenge,” he said sweetly, about to impale Mingyu, who was the closest. Seungkwan shouted a warning, but it was too late…

Mingyu screamed and flapped his arms like a windmill as Soonyoung made a desperate lunge, smashing him off to the side as the monk leapt into the vulnerable spot. Ishikiri sliced into him, going in through the belly and up towards the heart. As it did, Chan’s face shifted, and so did his body, until a smaller version of Commander Bathys stood there. “Tomb of Regret.” For a moment his eyes glowed, before his katana glowed with a chirping black lightning.

_No,_ Seungkwan wailed in his mind. _He’s still down from the previous attack, he can’t take that… please! Anyone, please! Help!_

With a whimper of pain Soonyoung splattered apart, exploding in gore and bones and blood; Seungkwan caught a splash of it across his face and in his mouth and could not deal, could not deal, could not _deal_. Pulling his arms to himself, he screamed with all his might, leaning down and curling into a tiny ball as his memories swamped him under.

The dome went away, _everything_ went away, with the party stranded in a strange black-and-white world. They staggered to their feet as they came to, moving protectively around their enchanter. The thing that had been Chan was nowhere to be seen. There was no palace, nothing but a nightmare of jagged-edged cliffs and massive crystals jutting from a black and white beach scene. Soonyoung wasn’t there either, though his blood still glinted on Seungkwan’s face, the dark red the only pop of colour there. His scream dulled to a hoarse whisper, as if the place absorbed it.

“What…” Seungcheol said as he slowly straightened. “Guys, what…”

Wonwoo fought to his feet, helping Mingyu back up.

Seokmin landed on his knees next to Seungkwan, hands hovering to try and calm him down. “Kwannie?” he called. “Kwannie! Answer me!”

Minghao trotted closer, pulling Jisoo and Jun closer as well, huddling close to Jihoon.

“What happened?” Jihoon asked blankly. “What… why did he do that? Where are we? Did we wipe?”

Smoke sifted from Seungkwan’s back, forming into a woman of uncertain age, though she looked young. At a touch from her hand Seungkwan’s voice stopped screaming and their enchanter simply… froze. “You’re in the soul world,” she said with a voice like ringing bells. “Dead… maybe. Perhaps.”

Jeonghan frowned. “Who are you?” he demanded. “Were you inside Kwannie like Chan wasn’t one of us either?”

The woman shook her head regally. “The one you called Chan was never your Chan,” she said, and spread her hands in the air. It formed a picture, albeit in blacks and whites, of the pearl at the top of the encounter and a small, sturdy body drifting in it. “Bathys switched him after he died in the Palace the first time. The mimic is programmed to attack healers when it turns. Your friend… Soonyoung? He _is_ dead. I had thought that my earlier intervention would be enough, but apparently not.”

“Lady,” Seokmin said. “I’m sorry for being rude here, but who _are_ you?”

“Yī qīng jī,” she said solemnly. “You may call me Benihime, if you wish.” Slowly, with great ceremony, she stuck her tongue out and displayed a brand that matched Seungkwan’s. “I sleep in the only soul I could flee to.”

“Are we dead?” Jeonghan demanded. “And how did you get into him?”

Benihime frowned delicately. “I do not know. The Fraction woke me up in him. As to whether you are dead… yes and no. Maybe. Forget about me. There is a man you should seek out, the wisest man in the lands. He…”

Her image paused and shattered as Seungkwan sat up robotically, face stark and bloodless. “Residual Fraction,” he whispered. “System Recovery Point.”

Between one moment and the next the world came back. Soonyoung’s hand was flung out to push Wonwoo aside, and Chan’s eyes lit up as he pulled back his arm, ready to attack them.

Seungcheol yelled as he leapt, uncaring who came in his way. “Castle of Stone!” he roared, and Ishikiri scraped along his ultimate defense without inflicting damage.

“How?” the thing in Chan’s skin asked, eyes widening into a paroxysm of surprise.

_I don’t know,_ Seungcheol wanted to answer it. _I don’t know anymore._


	13. Arc I: Boss Fight II

The doppelganger leapt back into the midst of the platform and sheathed the sword, pulling out a coral-looking staff instead. Its features rippled back to something that merged merman and snake and crocodile, as if it couldn’t understand what it wanted to be. “Veil of the Drowned,” it said hollowly as it struck the butt of the staff against the floor; Korianos’ form rippled and shrunk a little, but veils of water rushed around the entire room, cutting them off from the exits before they could flee.

_Not,_ Seungcheol considered, _that we would have. Damn, how do we end up in situations like this? Enchanter out of the fight, one tank turned into a sea-horror…_

Soonyoung limped to stand next to him, Jun on the other side. “Leader,” he mumbled out of the corner of his mouth. “What the shit happened? I remember… a place?”

Seungcheol looked sideways at their monk, fighting to grin. “Not now, ok? Wonwoo-ya?”

Wonwoo, finishing up the last of the charged healing spell, looked over the platform. “Thesephian,” he read. “Betrayer of the Depths, Left Hand of the King. Level 85.” He looked at the pulsing water wall, then Seungcheol. “Five minutes before second phase begins.”

Jihoon was still staring at the second-stage boss as if it had personally insulted him. “Guys,” he gritted out, voice deep with rage. “Guys, he’s mine.”

The platform grew shaded as seaweed extended from below it, channelled from the depths of the palace. There were no innocent mermaids and cherubs waiting in it now, just festoons of limbs and trophies and dead bodies. It turned the air cool and dank and reduced the light to a dim, watery glow.

Thesephian switched his weight in a ripple of tail and indolent muscle. “He was a good snack,” he said idly as the platform shifted, carrying them higher into the air. “And he’s been very useful in trapping the others. Such a strange little mind. So earnest in wanting to do the best, wanting to be like his mentors, his _hyung_. He’ll be your downfall as the sea races rise again!”

Jihoon tried to go for his throat, but Jeonghan rested a hand on his shoulder to keep him back. Very vaguely Seungcheol appreciated the lack of fear that took.

_Minghao:: Is he for real? Is he monologuing?_

_Wonwoo:: I think he is, that’s worrisome…_

“…because no one ever thinks of how we feel about all this, right? Just kill something that has more brains than a floating city of airsuckers, just because you think it tastes nice! You sick fucking automatons!”

_Minghao:: Why is it worrisome? It’s like every villain rant ever!_

_Wonwoo: When have any of the bosses in this game ever ranted? If they gained sentience in what happened, that has terrifying implications._

_Jihoon:: Fuck the implications, I want my brother back! I’m going to murder that POS, I’m going to grind him into a paste and make a bouquet of his limbs…_

_Jisoo:: Easy there, Lechter. I don’t think things are as clear-cut as they seem to be._

_Seokmin:: Guys, does this mean we’re in a real place? Is this like some kind of world and not the game?_

_Jeonghan:: I don’t even want to think about what that would mean without a very stiff drink in my hand. Leader’s treat._

_Seungcheol:: Don’t volunteer my wallet like that. I’m broke, remember?_

_Soonyoung:: C’mon, can we focus? We still need to rescue Chan-ssi and find out what’s up with Seungkwan-ah!_

_Mingyu:: Look at him, he’s actually foaming at the mouth… this is gonna be bad…_

Seungcheol blinked back from his nervous fiddling as he waited for the phase timer to run down. Thesephian was indeed foaming at the mouth, still ranting, but the slant of his bearing struck him. Swallowing down his internal doubt and worry about his guys, he cleared his throat and took a step forward. “Look,” he said. “We’re not here to do this for fun. We were just here to rescue Chan. We can… we can just take him and leave.” Out of the corner of his eye he saw Jun lean down to talk to Minghao, but ignored it. “We really, _really_ don’t have to fight.”

Thesephian blinked at that before his face contorted into a crazy, angry rictus. “Shut up!” he got out. “Shut…”

_Jisoo:: Time._

Seungcheol had no notion of movement. One moment Minghao was still hanging around off to the side chatting to Jun, the other he was moving in a trail of soft, shadowy particles. If an attack had been announced, he had missed it; seconds later, as Minghao’s dagger rent a huge line down Thesephian’s side, he was already running.

Soonyoung came at his side, neatly slipping in between their assassin and the second-stage boss as the thin curtains of water began to surge towards them. “Shadowless Kick!” the monk roared as he spun in a windmill kick, then landed to stab both claws into the ground. His shoulders shrugged, the rolled as he roared again, dragged a huge shadowy mass out of the ground and yanked at it.

“Oh my gosh!” Seungkwan jittered as he extended the rod in his hand towards Mingyu, who twirled his staff into a roundhouse that brought up a thin glimmering shield over them. “Mana Link! I didn’t even know that monks had any root spells, I’ve never seen anyone use one!”

Wonwoo stared at the scene with critical eyes. Minghao’s rush in had complicated things, but also simplified them: if they had to sit here all day debating whether bosses had sentience, they’d never get Chan back.

“Look” Hansol called as Jun tumbled through the fight already taking place, fans spinning and slashing to protect and shed attacks. “Look up there, at the pearl!”

Wonwoo cut his gaze upwards and his eyes widened. The pearl that had been semi-translucent before was fully transparent save for a shimmery shell now. There was a small figure floating unconscious in it, dressed in the Samurai armour the fake Chan had mimicked. From the calm way he lay there, he didn’t think he was conscious, but it didn’t matter. Water was slowly swirling in even as it grew thicker in the walls, looking like a cup that’s going to fill and overflow.

He felt a small hand clutch at his sleeve; Jihoon was there when he looked, eyes locked fearfully on the floating figure. “Chan,” he said, voice thin and cheeks bloodless. “It has to be, right? We have to get him out before he drowns…”

It was, Wonwoo pondered, one of those Catch-22 choices. Let Chan drown, or drown themselves, because the two targets were so far apart that he couldn’t…

_Hang on. Perhaps…_

“Seokmin-ah!” he called above the noise from the battle. “I want you to sing that song you sang earlier to wake us up, see if that works. Channel it at him, make sure that you sustain the channeling. Seungkwan-ah, top him up if he fails.” He shot a quick look at the way the battle was going. “Jeonghan- _hyung_ , Jihoon- _hyung_ , five seconds and go in, hit him as hard as you can. Hansol-ah, be ready with a root in three, two…”

Hansol’s shoulders shrugged with the force as Twin Spines Redress fought the sudden change of pace. “Steel Princess Strike!” he called, and fired into the air. The arrow seemed to strike a ceiling, but rebounded off it, and snarled into the mass of shadow Soonyoung was still wrestling down. It pinned into the shadow just as the claws lost grip, and sent little forks of light through it that lanced up from shadow to Thesephian, snapping him into place.

Seokmin’s voice started sounding, golden and heavy, swelling through the room without any problems whatsoever. The melody was unknown to them, but spiralled up into a thick stream that visibly flowed through the watery atmosphere. The shade, when it could be seen, was a subdued aqua that brightened the longer it sounded. There was a scream from the boss, but Wonwoo paid no attention to it for a second; instead, his eyes were nailed on the counter that sprang into being next to the shimmery pearl.

_Three minutes. Shit. That’s him effectively out of the fight then._

_Wonwoo:: Back line, switch to debuffs. Front line, beware of additional damage. Mingyu-ah, take over main healing, I’ll concentrate on the main tank._

The room was a blizzard of effects as the group surged forward, atmosphere thick as they called out their attacks. The lack of their bard’s buffs manifested almost immediately; attacks became slower, cooldowns became longer, Thesephian’s attacks ate down more at their tanks’ formidable defences. Around the sides, darting in like angry wasps, the DPS line picked up their pace; but Wonwoo could see it go south in the damage numbers. They weren’t enough for this fight, on the bad side of a DPS counter for the first time in ages.

Thesephian’s screaming hadn’t stopped – the mimic had a set of lungs on him – and with a shrug of his shoulders he battered them away like flies as he straightened. “From All Corners: Beasts of the Ocean Depths!” he yelled.

Wonwoo winced, braced… but nothing happened. The sheets of water undulated but nothing happened, and a look of surprise crossed the boss’ face as Seokmin’s voice soared sweetly, insistently. He risked a quick look at their bard; he looked white in the face from the force of sustaining it. Hansol and Seungkwan flanked him, half for protection and half to shelter in the aura the song provided. They worked eerily well together, mana flowing in a thick stream between the three…

“Get your head back in the fight!” someone screamed from the side, and Mingyu’s hand smacked down on his shoulder.

“From All Corners: That Which Sleeps!” Thesephian roared as he sidled backwards, throwing the trident in his hand up in the air. “Awake Korianos!”

“Scatter!” Wonwoo yelled. “All back! Jisoo- _hyung_ , do you have a bigger shield than the golem?”

“I… no, but hold on!”

The huge monster that had been clinging to the back of the platform roared awake and swept at the platform as it lumbered back onto it, Thesephian moving to cling onto it like a steed. The serpentine-quick slam of one limb scooped straight through the DPS line, who ran to shelter behind the tanks. The water started to move faster, fighting against Seokmin’s control. Faster the claw went, and the DPS had started late, would never get away in time…

“Oh ye born in the fires of the sun, mark of the ruler’s power,” Jisoo chanted frantically, kneeling down as he dismissed his golem that had been helping with the tanking. Invocations were almost never used, but it had to be if you were switching non-registered Summons in the midst of a battle. “Oh ye who shines golden in the depths of night…” His fingers linked, pulled power from the air and slammed it down on the platform as he tried to short-cut his summoning. “Oh ye…”

There came a sound like two rocks hitting each other; Wonwoo’s eyes widened as he saw the origin of it. Soonyoung had stopped dead in the midst of the claw’s path and caught it on braced forearms. He was straining against the force, pushed back, but he held as fast as he could, buying time for his party to get clear. Above Wonwoo’s head, Gesshoku rang once, somehow _charged_ by what the monk was doing, and letting off a subliminal ripple. It reminded him oddly of sections of BGM, the wailing as an old Knight had sacrificed himself for the cause…

_Twice in one dungeon. Twice in one damned dungeon, I’m going to have to talk to him…_

“Tiger Prince Soul: Hurricane Kick!” came clear through the noise of everything; the monk glowed orange like the tiger fur he had once worn, flipping over to zip up the extended line of the arm. His shoulders bulked, his legs moved faster; Wonwoo couldn’t believe his eyes when his health climbed, and an aura effect settled on him: “Blessing of the Four Kings,” he read disbelievingly.

“Shit,” Mingyu said feelingly at his side, watching with wonder. “Is he… is he some kind of juggernaut?”

Soonyoung charged up the arm as if it was a highway, and every second, every metre there seemed to be a new attack. Korianos hit him but he kept going, eating up the damage as if it meant nothing; he was so quick up the monster’s arm that he was on Thesephian before the mimic knew what had hit him. The kicks trailed so fast through the air they blurred, impacting against the boss like the sound of heavy rain. There were words in what he screamed, but it sounded so angry it was mostly just an angry roar.

A thousand damage. Two thousand. The boss’ HP kept falling by the wild way the monk tore at him.

“Target the bubble!” Wonwoo yelled as the rest arrived at his side. “Let him chew down the boss! Ranged attackers, forward!”

Jisoo’s invocation finished as the array that he had been building on the platform sublimated to fire. Over their heads, brilliantly crimson-red in the watery atmosphere, an Imperial Phoenix burst into being. Larger than the level 86 summon most high-level Summoners contracted with, the Imperial Phoenix had been a lucky ‘drop’ for Jisoo, a quest that resulted from rescuing a tiny Phoenix hatchling and nursing it throughout a whole year until it got well enough to return home.

**MY OLD FRIEND. WHY DO YOU CALL FOR ME IN THIS LAND OF WATER AND WOE?**

The phoenix’s voice was not spoken, but clearly heard by all even above Seokmin’s song.

“My lord,” Jisoo coughed, throat raw from the power he had to dig up. “My lord, we need urgent help. There is a young one in peril. Please, my lord, as I helped yours once…”

**A CHILD FOR A CHILD, THE DEAL IS DONE.**

The phoenix flashed forward, scorching the air until the sheer power of its presence blasted aside the water, the walls, the statues keeping the bubble up. Jihoon scrambled forward to get the small body that fell, but Soonyoung got there first. Leaping as he retracted from Korianos, he caught the young man’s body in his arms as the Imperial Phoenix blasted Korianos and Thesephian clean off the tower. It carried them far out, up until they almost could not see it, and then the sudden jarring drop reminiscent of eagles and turtles…

There was one very loud, very final, very messy thud. The group shuddered; Jun, brave enough to go and look, grimaced and shook his head as he turned back.

Soonyoung landed and skidded to a halt, arms still tightly wrapped around Chan.

Wonwoo cautiously straightened, saw the relief in Seungcheol’s eyes, and had just breathed in to stand everyone down…

“Down!” Hansol screamed as Seokmin sang on helplessly, so caught in his own trance he couldn’t break free. “Everyone down!”

There was no indication what Hansol was talking about, but it was a toss-up who reacted first, him or Jun. The Youxia dove over Minghao, pressing him into the platform bare microseconds before Seungkwan was pushed down as well by Hansol’s taller body. As one, Seungcheol and Jisoo made for for Jeonghan and Seokmin; seconds later, when Seokmin’s song abruptly broke off things went slightly crazy.

The Palace quite literally exploded beneath them as a rushing, roaring jet of water surged up the centre column and shot the disc they were on high into the air like a leaf caught in a fountain. There was magic in the waters, magic that vibrated with the same frequency as the magic Seokmin had sung into the bubble. Chunks of rococo palace shot up even further than they did, snapping into place around an immense man that bore a glistening crown on his forehead. Mermaid song surged through the air, and everything disappeared into frothing white.

It took long moments for the surging waters to settle down. When they came to again, they were still on the platform, still safe, but it was at the apex of a shell palace now, one surrounded with glittering crystal so that it sparkled almost as fiercely as Busan in the sun. The platform seemed to be a throne room, because they were surrounded by people large and small, with the man that had appeared from the sea seated in the midst.

As everyone struggled to their feet, he smiled at them from his spot reclined on a curved chair. His beard was seafoam, as was his hair, and his tail a magnificence of blue and green and steel grey. “Hail Adventurers,” he said. “By your might the curse on the ocean has been undone, and we once again rule in our appointed place.”

Everyone looked at each other, then nudged Seungcheol and Seokmin forward.

Seungcheol bowed out of respect, sheathing Angel’s Bane. “We did not know that we were doing that, King Triton,” he muttered. “Honestly, we were just here to find our friend and, well, get back there to fix things.”

The king turned his gaze to the woman beside him, then a man that looked like Commander Bathys might have before the curse. “We could not do anything about the curse that descended on our family either, or the thing that had taken over our waters,” he said mournfully. “But as you were strong enough to break them, we hope you will be strong enough to return the land to its glory as well.”

“We bear no malice against the land,” the woman at his side said. “They are our distant cousins, and a grand-aunt of mine once married into their royalty.” She nodded to Seokmin, eyeing the golden shell pendant he still wore. “Today, her favour is borne by a man of gentle heart and paramount voice, I see. That is good, it is what she would have wished. It will help you, young warrior, but it will also protect you. In the waves or the sea, whenever you ask, safety shall forever be yours.”

Seokmin’s eyes rounded and he tipped into a deep bow, mumbling his thanks. The gift was huge, if it would see them safe on the waters.

The king reached up to his crown and seemed to break a piece off. When he showed it to them it was a long, light, elegant sword instead, made of a steel that shifted its hues like a wave, and a gleaming pearl handle. “This blade has been in my family for centuries,” he said softly. “It makes kings, and it breaks kings; may it make you rather than break you. Balsarian, you had something as well?”

The man at his side nodded and held his hands out in the air, shaping something out of nothingness. “For the warriors in your party that did not hesitate to sacrifice themselves for the party, I bestow these. The Green Flash Gambeson of my unit, for the warrior as swift as the last green flash of light, and my personal armour, for the one that let the anger of a madman crest on him in a hopeless situation.”

“One last thing,” the woman said again. With a clap of her hands a large staff of a silvery metal floated in front of Seokmin, one that crowned with a swirl of coral, fish and sparkling diamond-like struts that supported a tiny globe of water around the top. “My great-aunt’s weapon, the Pride of the Ocean. I charge you to use it honourably and fairly.”

Seungcheol stuttered as he looked at the weaponry and armour, overwhelmed. “I… no, this isn’t necessary, I swear…”

_Mingyu:: Normally we just get a little chest with some stuff inside? What is this prizegiving? Is this how it will be from now on, or was there something special about this one?_

“But it is yours,” the king ordered. “Along with the thanks of my court, and a casket from my treasury. We shall disappear from memory for a while, to get our affairs in order, but you will always be welcome here. You thirteen, you brave band, shall be the only ones to see my palace henceforth, until we are of a mind to rejoin this world again. Go now, for both our groups have healing to be done.”

They all bowed; when they straightened they were once again on the edge of the lagoon with the new palace towering above them. This time they faced a black obelisk there, engraved with the date of their clear and all thirteen names, even still-unconscious Chan. At Seungcheol’s feet, beside the heap of armour, there sat a large casket waiting for them to open it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   * This is the half-season highlight, so to speak, with the Rescue Chan arc done... or is it? 
>   * Slower updates from now on, I have to write to get ahead of the juggernaut again. Tentatively the next arc is the Heaven's Lake arc. 
>   * The Korean servers have a cash shop according to canon. That doesn't exist in mine, because it was exploited historically. They still have an auction house where high-level weapons and armour can be sold. 
>   * How many overskills have you spotted so far? 
> 



	14. Arc I: Guild Hall

“I…” Minghao said. “Okay, I'm confused.”

“What happened?” Jun echoed.

Shocked, they stared at each other and sat down to let the last crazy minutes sink in. Seeing Seungcheol just stare at the obelisk, Jeonghan took a deep breath. “Jihoon-ah,” he said crisply. “Is he fine? Can we be assured this is the real Lee Chan this time?”

Jihoon, who had knelt next to Soonyoung, looked up as he took the unconscious form in his arms. “I don’t know,” he said dubiously, but with fatigue colouring his light voice. “I can’t tell. But it… feels like him?” His arms tightened around his brother. “I really don’t know, sorry. I’ll watch him carefully from now on.” He broke off, bit his lip as he looked at Soonyoung, and mumbled an uncomfortable thanks for his actions.

Seungkwan was fluttering around Seokmin, touching the sides of his throat, muttering to him, and soon he had called Hansol over; Jeonghan watched as Hansol raised a finger with a spark of magic attached to it, touching Seokmin’s throat and making it glow. From there, speculatively, he watched Mingyu support Wonwoo, who still looked exhausted, and his eyes narrowed as he looked at the large, looming staff on his back.

_Something is up here,_ he thought to himself. _Something is definitely up here, and I think it links to that staff, and to that woman inside Seungkwanie. Cheol and Joshuji and I will have to talk about this._ Aloud, rather than push the matter now, he knelt down next to the chest and flicked it open, motioning Jun closer. Seconds later, as he saw the insides, he wished _very much_ there wasn’t an informal cursing ban ongoing. At his side Jun had no problems with that, exclaiming something in Mandarin that had Minghao’s head jerk up and cheeks colour.

“I don’t think we have to worry about the prices in Busan anymore,” he said a little waspishly, because he was tired and confused and this looked to be a mountain of gold packed in a very tiny container. “Boss Bigloot over there appears to have given us a small fortune. Jun, if you’ll do the honours…”

Jun whistled and nodded as he reached for the contents of the chest. As he touched the gold it derezzed and disappeared, leaving only the items behind. “Almost thirty million,” he muttered as he looked at his inventory. “That’s outrageous for a dungeon this size, not even raids give away that much gold. Not even all the raids together. And… and… this is slightly strange?”

“What could be stranger than a single boss dropping that much gold in one go?” Jisoo muttered as he wandered closer. He still look ravaged by something, and his eyes were red-hued around the edges.

“It’s a mount upgrade,” Jun said as he looked up at the rest. “Sea mounts, it looks like?” His hand swirled in mid-air and tiny gloves of paua-coloured water spun off to all of them. “I’m not getting a type, so we’ll have to summon them and see, but they’re marked with the special tag and not tradeable. I didn’t even know these existed.”

Seungcheol seemingly pulled himself together, going to check on Chan before coming to huddle with them. “It definitely wasn’t a normal dungeon run, I think,” he muttered as he snatched one of the bubbles out of the air. “We need to talk about this, and everything that happened because of this dungeon, but we need to get back to Busan, go register and buy up the assets as well. We can deal with loot distribution later… those items that want to be distributed, and didn’t already bind to someone. Wonwoo, everyone else, good job but let’s pack up and get done with what we wanted to do here.”

Jeonghan and Jisoo shared a glance with each other, neither really needing telepathy to make the glance speak words.

“Alright!” Jisoo called. “You heard the man! Mounts out, back to Busan!”

Of all the mounts, it was Seungkwan’s that agreed to carry three people for the short flight. He and Jihoon sat in the double saddle, squishing Chan’s unconscious body between them. It was slow going, but Seungkwan had promised it enough snacks to come out of his ears; when they landed right in front of the Guild Hall it seemed happy to disappear. Ignoring the other Adventurers clustering around it, even the few members of Primacy hanging around, Seungcheol registered the guild and they all joined immediately.

From there Jun led them deeper into the complex warren of buildings, eventually reaching a large office on the second floor. He peeked inside, spoke softly, pulled back and nodded to them.

Compared to the trouble they went through to get the money, buying Busan’s guild hall and the surrounding area was laughably easy. Seungcheol’s eyes bugged out when he saw the total, not to mention the million that Jun pulled out of his own account to make up the rest. What took long, comparatively speaking, was defining access lists and going through a dizzying array of options owners could put on their property.

At the end of it, left with a single ‘key’ that represented their control of the area, Seungcheol presented it to Seungkwan. “Keep it,” he said gruffly. “Because they can’t come in anymore.”

The energetic Enchanter had a very wobbly lip when he accepted it, tucking the cord over his head. “Thank you,” he muttered.

“Baths for everyone,” Jisoo decreed. “And a good night’s sleep. In the morning we’ll go and look at the guild house listing and then we’ll have some down-time and talk.”

“One more thing,” Jeonghan said, pulling the robes and armour they were gifted with from his inventory. He handed the robes to Soonyoung and the armour to Seungcheol with an unwontedly serious look on his face. “We’re also going to talk about what you two did to deserve these. The sword we’ll decide on later…”

“ _Hyung_ ,” Seokmin said wearily. “Be realistic, you’re the only one here that uses a sword like that, and you puncture our egos enough, it’s like it’s ordained.”

The others rumbled their approval, though most looked dead on their feet as well.

Jeonghan blinked and smiled. “Okay, but we’ll think again tomorrow.”

* * *

In the morning, with a long night of sleep behind them and stomachs almost bursting from food, Wonwoo leant over Chan’s still unconscious form with a worried look on his face, one large hand settled over his forehead. Across from him Jihoon stood waiting with bated breath, irritation and worry a clear mix on his small face. “The curse effect is still there,” he said quietly to Jihoon as his healer’s senses presented him with a log of the boy’s condition. “It’s ticking down, that’s all I can tell you. The link was broken from what I can see, but he’s going to need time to recover.”

“What happened to him?” Jihoon demanded. “Besides being taken by that bloody mimic monster thing. Isn’t there something you can do to wake him up?”

Wonwoo shook his head. “Forcing him to wake up now might have bad consequences,” he demurred. “I won’t risk that. And don’t ask any of the other healers either, because I’ve talked to them and told them not to do it either.”

Jihoon straightened with a curse and stomped out of the room.

From the corner of the room, Seungkwan was the only one to see the way Wonwoo slumped. “ _Hyung_ ,” he said softly, going to his side to support him. “You know he’s not angry at you, right? And you still don’t look well, _hyung_ …”

Wonwoo straightened with Seungkwan’s help, grimacing. “It’s a holdover from my real body,” he muttered as Seungkwan helped him to a chair. “I’m… not a very well person in real life, Seungkwanie. This is normal for me. It’s like Soonyoung- _hyung_ can’t function with legs like a cat now. It’ll be okay. It’s manageable.”

“Is that why you became a pro gamer?”

“No,” Wonwoo smiled. “But it did help, not having to move so much. Stick out your tongue.”

Seungkwan blinked but capitulated, sticking his tongue out as far as he could.

Wonwoo wanted to laugh. He looked so cute like that, eyes crossing to try and see the seal on it. “I never really noticed, but the seal is different from others’, isn’t it? Does it give you any pain?”

“Ghuuuu….”

That made Wonwoo laugh. “Pabo!”

Seungkwan, grinning, swallowed and shook his head. “No pain, _hyung_. But we were talking about you!”

Tilting his head, Wonwoo jerked his chin to the door and the increased noise coming from it. “Actually, I think we’re leaving for the guild hall,” he evaded smoothly. “Come on, help me up.”

Seungkwan, pouting extra-hard, helped him up and slung an arm around his waist. When they emerged from the room everyone was clearly gearing up to go; a red-eyed Jihoon pulled away from Jeonghan as Soonyoung slipped into the room to get Chan.

“Not a long trip,” Minghao said. “From some scouting earlier, the Adventurers here literally don’t know what hit them, most think it’s still business as usual. Primacy is gone though. We know they can’t get into here or Daegu, so they’re going to have to make a move on the other three. Some of the rumours have been not so good…”

Seungcheol took a deep breath. “Guild Hall first, we can rest there in more safety.”

Jun led them through the city to the Guild Building and through it to the Hall of Doors, ambling idly up and down corridors before he pointed out a large set of double doors down one shadowed corridor. “It’s not really the hall,” he explained. “More like a shadow of the place, like a hologram.” He waited until they were at the door, then pushed it opened to reveal what looked like a huge, overblown mead-hall straight out of a Norse fairytale. It stank like the place hadn’t been cleaned in ages, and most of them physically recoiled from the stench that wafted through the open doorway.

“No,” Jisoo said immediately with steely countenance. “No way in _hell_. We’re all going to catch an infection.”

“There are different looks,” Jun explained hastily. “The lower-level Guild Halls just have a single look, but these come with a menu like they do on the Chinese server… look! It’s got pictures of all the possible locations that’s not occupied yet that we can switch to!”

With a bit of prompting from him the three leaders stood around the console that floated in the air, with the rest of the group clustered around their shoulders. “There seem to be different looks to suit different cultures?” Seungcheol mused. “Or this one that looks like a water adventure park…”

“No,” Jisoo said again, still quite sternly. “I might like Undines but no.” He shuddered again as he looked at the filth before him. “Not that this place couldn’t do with a few Undines…”

Mingyu hooked his chin over Minghao’s shoulder, pouting for all he was worth. “I want something glorious!” he insisted. “If we have it, what are the best-looking places we can get, and can we customise them?”

Minghao sighed wearily. “You’ve never been on the Chinese server, right? Trust me, they can be surreally customised. The more victories your guild win, the more options you have. Some people raid for guild hall content, not even the normal loot.”

“…aincrad…” a weak voice whispered. “Aincrad, can we get Aincrad?”

“Chan!” Jihoon roared, almost snatching him from Soonyoung’s arms. “Channie, it’s me, it’s _hyung_ …”

Seungcheol looked at the desperate way Jihoon moved to hug his brother, then clapped his hands together. “Thirty minutes,” he decreed. “Take a break, look over the catalogue, pick two looks from the broadest category. We can look at narrowing things down afterwards. For the moment, Jisoo-ah, just pick the first thing that doesn’t stink. We really need to get to a safe place to stop and talk about things.”

Jisoo nodded and stepped through into the guild hall, shoving his sleeves up with a grim look on his face. He didn’t so much look at the menu, just stabbed his finger at another setting. The place disappeared into a great white light and shimmered through them; when they could see again, they were definitely not in Busan anymore. Instead, all of them stood on a stone platform in the midst of an autumnal forest. There was a huge statue of three women in the middle of it, crowned and with angel wings. Seats circled, the air was comfortable rather than cool, and a soft melody more rustling leaves than music ran through the air.

Seokmin canted his head to the music. “Which one is this?” he asked curiously.

Jisoo, looking down at the option that he selected, then up to the flame-hued trees growing ever-larger around graceful architecture, smiled whimsically. “The Heart of Light in the middle of the Fortress of Mourning,” he explained. “We’re in Naminara.”

Soonyoung’s head jerked up. “Is that the spin they put on Namiseom? I live close to there, only an hour and a half away by rail, in Maseok!” He spun around on his heel, giving both himself and Chan a three-sixty view. “But… I don’t understand, you can’t even get onto Nami Island in the game.”

“Maybe because it’s been tagged as one of the level 10 guild areas? I don’t think we’re actually _there_ , but it’s one of the options we can get, and if we go there in-game we might be able to get onto the actual island.” Jisoo breathed in deeply. “It’s beautiful.”

Seungkwan, curious, made for the floating holo-screen. “It’s not just the island,” he said, scrolling through the fine print and reading quickly. “It’s a ten kilo radius that centres on it.” He chewed his lip. “That’s huge.” His fingers danced on the console. “There are other options as well, like the old Hwangryeongsa Temple and Gyeongbokgung in Seoul… ah no, that one’s already been taken? There are so many significant sites on this register… but this is just an example of what can be built.”

“It reminds me of Lord of the Rings,” Jisoo said dreamily.

Seungcheol grimaced as he stared to unlace his armour piece by piece, letting them disappear into his inventory. Angel’s Bane disappeared as well, lifting enough weight from his shoulders to make him straighten out. He caught Jeonghan’s eye as the Hwarang combed his fingers through his hair and looked away, almost blushing. Gritting his teeth, he sat down on one of the stone benches and settled his eyes on the statues instead.

“First things first,” he said. “We’re going to take some downtime. At least a week or two. We’re all done after that dungeon. It’ll be like a road trip, we take the griffons and we’ll go and visit the place we pick. Second, the sword…”

Mingyu stuck both hands into the air. “I still think Jeonghan- _hyung_ should have it!” he said loudly. “Not just because none of the rest of us really use light swords, but because it’s so pretty.” He beamed at them in a wide circle. “He can be like the ambassador for the guild, and we can put him on recruitment posters and so on!”

The guild stared at him with fascination.

Jeonghan gave them an inscrutable smile and reclined onto an elbow like a sleepy cat.

“…fine,” Seungcheol conceded. “Anyone against?”

Seconds later, seeing no hands, he nodded to Jisoo, who ceremoniously bestowed the sword on Jeonghan. Everyone looked happy… everyone excluding the newcomer, who just looked confused.

_Poor thing,_ Seungcheol mused. _I wonder how much he can remember._ Seconds later, much darker, _I wonder if he’s the real Chan._

_Does it matter? Nothing we can do about it now._

“Secondly I’d like to welcome Lee Chan _-ssi_ back…”

The youngest perked a little and sat up straighter, bobbing a bow to all assembled. “Thank you for rescuing me,” he said earnestly. “I can’t remember much of what’s been happening, but I’m really grateful to be rescued. I don’t even know why I was on this server.”

Seungcheol watched him closely. “Do you want to join the guild?”

“Cheol- _hyung_ ,” Jihoon started, but subsided when he flicked him a reassuring glance.

“If I may?” Chan said slowly. “But on the understanding that if we ever get out of this mess, I want to go back to the Japanese server. I have too many friends there that might be in danger. Some of them are online, I know that much, but… well. See for yourself.”

He flicked his hand in the air and swung his information screen around to show them.

_Name: Lee Chan_

_Class: Samurai_

_Spec: Vengeance_

_HP: 8331_

_MP: 8084_

_Level: 85_

“I’m low-level compared to you guys,” Chan said softly. “I’ll fight as hard as I can, but I’m going to need help to level up.”

Seungcheol stifled a smile at the earnestness. It felt totally different from the sly, malicious cheerfulness the mimic had had. “Some of the others in the guild are that level too,” he explained. “It’s not a problem. We’ll be happy to work with you, though none of us really know the Samurai class that well. I’m the same level as you.”

That caused a ripple of shock; Wonwoo in particular looked pained.

Jisoo leant closer, frowning. “You were level 87,” he said metedly. “What happened?”

“It’s that skill you used in the Event,” Wonwoo theorised, leaning forward a little. “It must be. We’ve all been manifesting some abilities not strictly on the skill list but that’s been the most spectacular so far, that and that… whatever happened in the last fight.”

Seungkwan paled a little. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I don’t know what happened either.”

“And there’s the thought we had in the last fight that bosses might be sentient now? I’m not sure I’m comfortable with destroying sentient creatures,” Jeonghan added. “I’d really like to get an explanation for all of this. Isn’t there someone we could ask?”

When silence descended, Chan looked around and cleared his throat. “Don’t you have any sages on this server?” he asked curiously. “There’s one on the Japanese server that was reputedly very wise. He was a Lander but if Landers can act now like _hyung_ ’s been telling me, perhaps one can help? Ours was called Li Gan, I think – the Sage of Miral Lake.”

Wonwoo frowned thoughtfully. “If we look at the mythology… but most of the lakes in South Korea are manmade, not exactly what you’d call a sacred site…”

Mingyu clapped his hands loudly, distracting everyone. “Heaven Lake!” he called out happily. “Right? That’s a sacred lake?”

“But that’s in North Korea!” Seungkwan said. “That’s… are we even allowed to go there? _Can_ we go there?”

“No, wait,” Wonwoo said, tired expression enlivening. “He’s right, it’s on Baekdusan, and we all know it’s sacred… Minghao-ya? I think the Chinese call it Chongbai?”

“Changbai,” Minghao corrected his accent slightly, eyes widening. “It’s a very sacred mountain, yes, even for us. If there’s a sage anywhere on the Korean server it might be there.”

“Even on our side Changbai is a sacred site,” Jun added quietly.

Seungcheol considered the group, then nodded. “In the absence of any other leads, we can go there,” he decided. “There are a few things I’d like to do here first though, just to make sure the place doesn’t go to hell whilst we’re away. Hannie, did you get a chance to talk to that friend of yours?”

Jeonghan slowly straightened from his sprawl. “Jira, from Gyeong-Hui?” he questioned, and smiled as Seungcheol nodded. “I did. I got us a meeting a few days from now, so we have today still to capitalise on the shock value, then she’ll reel in potential customers. I’m going to need a lot of help from Mingyu-ya though.”

Mingyu nodded happily. “This is for that demonstration you talked about? I already found a place we can use, if we can kill something for me to put on the burgers I can whip up a couple of dozen no stress.”

Soonyoung appeared to amble awake from his doze. “Hang on,” he said. “Jira-ssi from Gyeong-Hui, that’s that support guild friend of yours, right? Gyeong-Hui’s huge, what do they have to do with burgers?” He paused. “Not that I couldn’t do with a couple…”

Jeonghan grinned. “So far no one we’ve encountered can make food like Mingyu-ya,” he explained. “And if we’re the ones that can bring some form of coffee back to the caffeine-starved masses on this server, we stand to make money hand over fist. We shouldn’t risk that the secret won’t get out. So we figured that we’d spend a day in the most obnoxiously available place in Busan, tempt everyone with the smell of real food and coffee, and then the morning after sell the secret to the support guilds. Not so much for the money, but if we ever want to make some kind of stable alliance of guilds we need the exposure.”

“ _Hyung_ ,” Seungkwan said, leaning forward a little bit. “You’re going to use their stomachs to get to their hearts? That’s almost diabolically clever. We’re a new guild now though, you’re already thinking of an alliance?”

Jeonghan, looking exactly like an angel as he smiled mysteriously, nodded. “This place is going to be cleaned up,” he said sweetly. “And as Joshuji said, we need to crush that festering boil that is Primacy, and for _that_ we are going to need more than money.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   * So the guild hall setting that won was 'Nature'. Thus, I've set their HQ on Namiseom. It's one of the [most beautiful](https://ohfact.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/02/Nami-Island.jpg) river islands I know of. 
>   * Fun fact: Naminara is a country within a country, sort of. The island houses the Naminara Republic, which has declared its independence from the greater South Korea. You can read more about [Naminara](https://namisum.com/en/republic/introduce/) here. In this story, it's an actual tiny fiefdom which they now possess. 
>   * All the guild areas in Reverse Fraction are culturally significant places, or copies thereof. Yes, even the [waterpark](http://english.visitkorea.or.kr/enu/ATR/SI_EN_3_1_1_1.jsp?cid=264361) one. 
>   * Nami Island really is close to Maseok, and I can just imagine Hoshi telling everyone about it. 
>   * [Baekdusan](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paektu_Mountain) is real as well, and sits on the border of North Korea and China. It is extremely important to both Korean states, and there's a lot of history tied up in it. At its summit in the volcanic crater [Heaven Lake](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Heaven_Lake) sits. 
>   * Gyeong-Hui is a Korean name made up out of the characters for Respect, Honour and Beauty. Thank you, Sunhoonie! 
> 



	15. Arc I: Food Buffs

Seungkwan wandered slowly amongst the trees in the holo-room that represented their new guild. They had gone with the option Jisoo had chosen by random, Naminara, but now buildings more closely aligned to the traditional Korean _hanok_ style rose in the trees in place of the European fortress. There were hidden nooks and crannies: a wet garden where stone pillars marked with arcane symbols rose as guardians, intensely forested hideaways he wished he could show his mother, and the distant swishing of the river, audible yet gentle.

His feet led him slowly to its shore over a small avenue seemingly paved with red leaves. The trees rustled above him, and except for the sounds of nature it was very quiet. It took ages for him to reach the shore, and ages more before a tall form settled down next to him.

_Mingyu-hyung,_ his mind supplied without the need to look.

Mingyu had no problems with shuffling in close until their bodies touched, then leant against each other down one line of his body. “And why is my Kwannie out here alone?” he asked, voice lowered to something softer from his general loudness. “Did you forget you promised to help with the burgers tomorrow morning? I’m not going to make them all without help. Pabo Burgers will need the pretty faces up front.”

Seungkwan rubbed at his face before he rested his head on Mingyu’s shoulder, sheltering closer when the man’s long arm settled around his shoulders. “That’s still a stupid name,” he complained. “Why did we let Soonyoung- _hyung_ win at deciding the naming rights?”

Mingyu laughed softly. “Because if we had not, Jihoon- _hyung_ would have won it and then we’d have been Wakanda Burgers or something. We’re lucky he’s a little distracted with his brother right now.”

“Yeah, I don’t envy that situation at all.”

Wiggling his shoulder a little, Mingyu looked down at his _dongsaeng_. “Speak up,” he ordered. “Or I can tickle it out of you.”

Seungkwan muttered with irritation to hide the softness in his heart. Of all the people in the old Atelier Destiny, he felt as if Mingyu made the best brother even if he was loud and they had a mock sibling rivalry going. Moments like these made up for all of that. “I’m still scared,” he admitted softly. “Not of the pain anymore, I faced the pain and got through it. But I’m scared of what this new world holds. We’re going to be travelling pretty far on this road trip, and I don’t know what we’ll be finding there on Baekdusan. I’m scared for what it might mean.”

Mingyu lifted his hand to softly caress the crown of Seungkwan’s head. “Seungkwanie,” he said gently. “You have a right to be scared. It’s a scary situation. But we’ll get back to our family, okay? You have to believe that, because I will fight for that and the rest of the guild will, and one day we’ll all be on Sanhosa beach and you can introduce me to that marinated crab your mother makes. Okay?” His hand drooped a little to wipe away tears that sprung from Seungkwan’s closest eye. “We’ll get there. I promise.”

“I still have nightmares,” Seungkwan muttered, sighing as the arm around him tightened. “Of Croesus- _hyung_ standing over me…”

“Don’t call him that,” Mingyu interrupted. “We’re your _hyungdeul_ , not that animal.”

Seungkwan swallowed, trying to stifle a sob that wanted to mutate into a keen. “I know, I _know_.”

Mingyu looked over the dark river. Times like these, when Seungkwan’s armour let down and he was just a frightened boy, he didn’t have much faith in the universe. “It’s okay,” he whispered into Seungkwan’s hair as he pulled him into a full hug. “It’s okay.”

He didn’t have to lift his gaze very far to meet the presence he had felt earlier. Down the river quite a bit, Chwe Hansol stood with only the faintest specks of moonlight shining off his hair. He looked tired as well, but it struck Mingyu that he had settled with an excellent vantage spot of Seungkwan, likely to watch over him in the distance but still give him space to think.

Mingyu:: I’ve got him, if you want to sleep some more.

Hansol:: …yes, _hyung_.

Though they said nothing more than those silent telepathic bursts to each other, Mingyu could read the reluctance in the line of Hansol’s back quite clearly. Still, he left, leaving Mingyu to wonder what was going on there.

_Wonwoo-hyung will explain it to me,_ he thought as he pressed his cheek against a sobbing Seungkwan’s temple. _He’ll be able to tell me._

* * *

“You can take this outfit and you can stick…” Jihoon said with rising ire as he looked at the monstrosity in maid pink Wonwoo held out to him. From closer to the outside of the stall the smell of frying beef and chicken came, and Minghao was doing something to a potato that would eventually make it turn into curly fries. Outside the stall entirely, Seungkwan, Seokmin and Soonyoung were already capering and advertising and calling to people.

“Jihoonie…” Jeonghan entreated. “Come on, it’s for the cause.”

Jihoon hated that he was so weak for Atelier Destiny’s leader, but he was so comfortable when he wanted to sleep and pretty in a way that didn’t threaten him, just made him feel more secure. Meeting Yoon Jeonghan had been a lightning-bolt: someone honest-to-god prettier than he was, who usually didn’t mind using it, and who appreciated the healing power of a good nap. “ _Hyung_ ,” he whined in desperation. “It’s ugly. It’s not my colour. I can’t wear pink.”

For a moment indecision drifted across Jeonghan’s face.

Woozi stiffened and got ready to run as soon as he spotted the slightest weakness…

“Oh, don’t worry,” came a cheerfully soft voice. “We have it in blue too. You’d look good in blue.”

Woozi slumped as the other half of Devil Line came in brandishing something in baby blue. “I would have had him,” he hissed as he yanked it away and went to go and dress, all to the tune of Jisoo smiling serenely at him. Five minutes later, pulling the stupid elf-looking costume down over the leggings, he prayed his butt didn’t show too much and went forth to do battle.

The three biggest clowns of the group were capering around and hauling people in as fast as Mingyu could sling burgers; they looked to be having an informal competition about it.

“Burgers!” he yelled. “Get your motherfucking burgers before they’re sold out, you creepy fucks!”

Behind him in the tent Wonwoo winced and looked over his shoulder at their leader. He was sitting there with his hands over his face and his shoulders rounded. As Seungkwan’s ‘ _Hyung_ , language!’ came drifting into the tent, he grinned at his leader. “You know, I’m not sure what’s worse, his language or the fact that it’s actually working.”

“More potatoes please!” Mingyu called over Seungcheol’s deep groan.

“It’s actually working?” Seungcheol grunted as he stood.

Wonwoo nodded and lifted his arms as Seungcheol backhugged him, resting a rather pointy chin on his shoulder to look out the tent. For a moment he cuddled back, enjoying the line of warmth there. “Look,” he prompted, and went back to peeling potatoes.

Seungcheol peeked out past the preparation area. People seemed to be queueing around the block and there was one guy on his knees, genuinely sobbing as he ate the burger. Most of all, there was a crowd of people rushing ‘Grumpy Elf’ and his cohorts, who seemed to be having some kind of impromptu dance-off. Jihoon was dancing with, albeit with his arms flapped around by Seokmin, and he could practically hear the rumbling of footsteps as the populace of Busan thundered closer to come and get a burger.

“I’ll help peel,” he muttered prosaically.

* * *

Hours later, sold out of the burgers, fried chicken and all the fries they had, Jisoo and Jeonghan settled down at the table with Jira. The meeting had been set for three days hence, but she had sent a very nice message asking if they could meet sooner, and now she sat with a complimentary cup of coffee in front of her and a steely look in her eye.

“How,” she stated simply.

Jeonghan tilted his head and grinned lazily at her. “Now now, Jira- _noona_ , you know what kind of a world this is. I’m in another guild now, I’ve got twelve hungry kids to feed and you don’t want to know what I pay in a day to keep them fed.”

Jira sighed and shook her head, taking a sip of coffee. “Jeonghan-ah, I know exactly what it takes to feed people for a day. Supply guild, remember? Let’s be frank. Normally you can survive on 35 gold a day, but the food tastes like hell. You come along with food that tastes like _food_ , and I saw men offering you 50 gold per burger when the burgers started getting low. I thought they’d practically go on their knees when the coffee gave out. As I see it, you have a valuable secret but you’re resource-constrained. Your guild is just too small to keep up with the huge demand this will create. We can be of use to each other.”

Jeonghan looked to Jisoo, then back. “We want votes,” he said softly. “You’re the biggest support guild in Busan and you’ve got an alliance with Espiyas, which is bar none the biggest raiding guild currently on the game. Stop buying XP potions from Primacy, we’ve got good intel they are exploiting the newbies for it, and their leader is a convicted _still serving_ criminal. Convince Espiyas to do the same, and we’ll give you the secret for free.”

Jira blinked and sat up straight. “That is a huge business advantage you’re asking us to give up,” she murmured. "We might be a supply guild, but we count on those potions too, and I know they’re damn near invaluable to GD and his boys.”

Jisoo cleared his throat. “Jira-noona, there are still other sources to buy those. More… reputable sources, players that are ok with a slower progression and want the money the potions could get them. We’re not saying you need to stop using it. Just don’t buy from pot farms. It was illegal previously, and it should still be illegal now that we’re trapped here. Yes, you might suffer in the immediate future, but the money the food will bring in will be invaluable.”

Sighing and shaking her head, Jira sipped at her coffee. “I’ll have to talk to GD- _oppa_ in any case. We have a line, I can do that tonight. I’ll be able to give you the go-no go tomorrow night. Can we at least agree on a twenty-four-hour option on this information for an old friend?”

Jeonghan straightened and nodded. “We’ll still sell tomorrow, but we can do that, Jira- _noona_.” He hesitated, then sighed. “When you talk to GD-ssi, tell him it’s Keleni. Primacy? They’re led by the same people as Keleni was. He’ll know what that means.”

“Even I know what that means, Jeonghan-ah,” Jira said, voice taut and expression tightening a little. “Tomorrow night by eight server time.”

They watched her stand and leave; when the door closed Jisoo turned to gauge the expression on Jeonghan’s face. “Thank you,” he said softly. “I know we’re one guild now, but thank you. I appreciate your help in this. It means a lot.” He paused. “I wanted to talk to you about Cheol and Jihoon.”

Jeonghan, in the process of standing, sat down again. “What about?” he asked evenly.

“They both like you,” Jisoo said blandly. “Either that or you suddenly developed the power to turn men’s ears into toast machines.”

“But not yours?” Jeonghan flirted a little.

Jisoo gave him a very flat look. “Focus,” he suggested.

Sighing, Jeonghan slumped deeper on his seat. “You know I’m homosexual,” he said softly. “You hardly could have missed that. And yes, they’re both attractive for different reasons, but I don’t think I’m in the position for any kind of relationship right now? It’s barely been over a week since we were dumped here. I just… you know what it’s like. People that are pretty can be as lonely as people that are not pretty. Less, yes, but it still happens.”

Jisoo nodded thoughtfully. “But the problem is you’re not pretty, Hannie,” he said gently. “You’re downright beautiful. You’re so pretty that it’s like the Seokmin effect – the sun smiles when you smile.”

“Joshuji,” Jeonghan murmured, lips trembling. “That’s not…”

“It’s true,” Jisoo said, forging forward. “Even I feel it, and you’re definitely not my type. All I’m saying is to tread gently, okay? Those two are practically brothers, they’ve been friends that long.” He reached forward to pet Jeonghan’s shoulder. “Even if it’s not them. I’m worried about you too, you’re growing to be a good friend.” Standing, he reached to pull him up. “Come on, let’s go and give the guild the news.”

“Joshuji,” Jeonghan murmured again, but nodded and stood, taking a deep breath. “We need to go and make ready to travel in any case. Whatever the guilds answer with, we’ll need to get to Baekdusan.”

Jisoo laughed as he wandered out. “Let’s drop the planning on our _dongsaengdeul_ ,” he suggested impishly. “Seungkwanie will pout, but he’s so good at it, and Wonwoo was born to plan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   * My thanks to Jaja for letting me use her AU as a guild name! 
>   * Yes, GD is in here too, off somewhere being savage. 
> 



	16. Arc I: Reputation Grinding

Seungcheol sat down in the hard chair and tried to get comfortable under the huge statues of the Six Toppling Princesses. The one across him had a cross-eyed look on her worn-down face that seemed to bode ill; he had never been comfortable with large pieces of stone looming over him, especially not with ineffable, destroyed faces. With Jisoo on his right and Jeonghan on his left, he tried to project a stern front as he looked at the open door, but history kept on trying to intrude, kept on distracting him.

He came to himself with a subtle pinch from Jisoo, straightening and standing as the ladies from Gyeong-Hui entered. They nodded to him as they settled on the second side of the triangular table; when Jeonghan went to close the door Jira shook her head.

“We’re expecting someone else,” she said calmly.

“Jira-noona,” Jeonghan chided. “You were supposed to keep this a secret.”

Jira spared him a tired, wintry smile. “It’s necessary.” She paused. “I don’t suppose you have some coffees tucked somewhere, do you? I’ve not slept since we last spoke.”

Seungcheol, relaxing back in his chair, said nothing as Jisoo tutted and provided coffee. That conversation had been over two days ago, longer than they thought initially. It had given the guys time to plan and pack, but the unease had still rilled down his spine. Seeing Jira with purple bruises underneath her eyes made him feel uneasy, especially if she thought it wise to import a third party.

Seconds later, seeing the men entering the room and pulling the door shut behind him, he felt at a distinct lack for words. He had half been dreading Espiyas, but the two that loped in were as far from that as possible. Tall RM, leader of Mikrokosmos, and Suga, who had made his nickname something to fear and not to laugh at. They looked equally as tired as Jira; fatigue painted purple shadows underneath their eyes to go with the slight puffiness of RM’s eyes and the gaunt, burning austerity of Suga’s. They _also_ sat down as if they belonged at the table, and Suga raked a complimentary coffee closer with avaricious glee.

“God,” he muttered in an oddly deep, raspy voice as he sipped. “Please marry me.”

Jira rolled her eyes as she straightened a little. “You’re already married, Yoongi-yah.”

‘Yoongi’ said nothing, merely smiled into his cup as RM cleared his throat.

“Our apologies for crashing your meeting with Jira-noona,” he said courteously. “Yoongi- _hyung_ and I wanted to speak as well regarding the situation you have found yourself embroiled in.”

Jeonghan frowned. “You’ll have to forgive me if I don’t follow. I know that I asked Jira-noona to contact Espiyas about the pot-farming, and asked her to take a stance as well but…”

Fingers tight around her mug, Jira nodded. “I appreciate that you came to me first, whether that was due to the relationship we had with Atelier Destiny or not. I have talked with them; GD-oppa informed me that he placed the matter under investigation.”

“That is where we came in,” RM said. “We’re a small guild as well, but well-suited for investigation, and when my _hyung_ ’s sunbae asked him to take a look we did. That’s when we found out that you were the group that sorted Daegu out. We only had spotty accounts, Jiminie was concentrating on survival and not intrigue.”

“’Jiminie’?” Seungcheol questioned, feeling lost. At his side, Jisoo shifted a little, pressed a knee to his, but the meaning of the gesture was lost on him.

“Park Jimin,” Suga said into his cup. “My husband. Here. On the game. We got married yesterday. He married me.”

Seungcheol watched Jira’s mouth twitch with the need to laugh, watched RM pinch his eyes shut as if asking for divine intervention. “Congratulations,” he murmured, amused all of a sudden. “I still don’t…”

“He was trapped in Daegu,” Jisoo guessed. “Correct? And when we took out Fakerr and his band, he was free to leave. I’m guessing he’s lower-level? He would certainly not have made it through the PK bands roaming the place.”

There was a unique kind of pain in Suga’s eyes when he shrugged; RM took over smoothly. “It impressed us that you didn’t demand money from Jira-noona when you could have. That you tried to make the world around you a little better instead. Even now, when you own the Guild district, your rules aren’t anything but common sense. That is why I asked Jira-noona whether we could crash the meeting. We have an invitation for you.”

Jira shifted. “We’re trying to build a council of like-minded folk,” she explained. “People that want the best even after the disaster that happened to strand us here. I’m sure you’ve noticed the atmosphere in towns and cities.”

Seungcheol nodded slowly. “One of my guildmates called it a prison ambiance. So it’s going to… what? Be some kind of government? For what purpose?”

“To fix the world of course,” RM said airily, but his eyes had a sheen of determination. “We want to fix this world.”

* * *

Jun stared sightlessly at the little garden in front of him. The guild hall’s hologram stretched far and wide, but this little patch of it seemed special. There was something about the rain on the roof of the gazebo that made him homesick in the worst way.

_Everyone is excited for this trip. We’ll be going far north, maybe even into China. Am I really ready to face that again?_

Just the thought of seeing the Chinese landscape made the hollow behind his heart ache. The valleys and fields, the wide rivers, the mountains thrusting towards the sky like fingers… the thought of them lured him, but many in his clan had decried his decision to move to Korea, to play mainly there. He had abandoned the _Xiāng Lián_ to their fate years ago rather than cause trouble in the hierarchy. Did they even exist anymore, or had they been totally subsumed into the Golden River League?

Fingers itching, he reached into his inventory space and pulled out his guqin, laying it over his legs. Sense memory obliged and he sat up straight, posture automatically adapting itself as his hands softly fell to the strings. The first note was plangent, a limping thing full of uncertainty. The next came out stronger, and he stared at the strings as the memory of his first teacher came back to him. She had been a strict old biddy, watching over him as he played. Slowly, very slowly he made his way back to the melody of his early years, mind fogged by white-noise rain and old memories.

“I never thought I’d hear the Sage of Heaven’s Peak play,” a voice said softly close to him; Xu Minghao’s form shivered out of hiding as his fingers struck a sour note on the strings.

Jun bit the inside of his cheek and let his head fall forward to focus on the strings. Unwanted, his fingers continued playing, though he struggled more to forget the last time he saw rain trapped in eyelashes than escape the sense-memory. “You’re not seeing him play now either,” he murmured. “The person you speak of, didn’t he die? I’m merely a two-bit player.”

Minghao gave a couple of steps closer to lean against one of the supports of the small tea-house, staring out at the shimmery surface of the pond as rain pelted against it. “Forgive me, _ge_ , if I do not think you a two-bit anything. The server has always wondered what happened when your clan disappeared; how odd to find you cultivating in the midst of a bunch of Koreans.”

Jun’s mouth pulled at the corner, fey-amused. “Cultivating? Is this where you haul out a flute and start playing with? Are we in a xianxia now?” he asked smoothly, bangs veiling his eyes as he played on. “Forgive _me_ if I don’t understand your words, Young Master Xīn Yuè. Your prowess is universally boasted.”

This time it was Minghao’s turn to jerk. For a second his hands clenched over the wooden railing before he turned to sit down and stare at the older man. The guqin’s strings trembled with the same delicate touch that had once wielded the thinnest of blades; if he concentrated just right he could see energy sift off the strings, the visible manifestation of the inner power that Wen Junhui had once wielded as one of the best combat musicians on the server.

Back home the Xiāng Lián had been one of the most prestigious guilds, and its twin leaders shining examples of the heroes of old. The elder, Yīngjié, had been a noble swordsman and fantastic militarist in the frequent battles for territory that could be fought. The younger, Wěizhé, had been the heart of the clan; gossip had him as a cheerful man that cared deeply for others.

Minghao’s brow furrowed as he tried to remember what had happened. There had been rumours of a split, but very little beyond that.

It frustrated him. Wen Junhui was a puzzle he didn’t understand. “This isn’t a danmei,” he mumbled, oddly melancholic, and grimaced at the Youxia’s small, quiet smile in return. Sighing, his head sank back against the wooden pillar too, and he closed his eyes to let the music take his fatigue away to let him dream.

Jun dared to look up after a few moments of silence, only to spot the younger Assassin gently asleep. Lips quirking, he set the guqin aside for a moment and pulled off the outer layer of his robes. Then, with it wrapped around Minghao to keep him warm, he returned to his playing and tried not to dread returning to China.

* * *

Chan looked uneasily at the packing happening. Seungkwan was flittering around the central courtyard under Wonwoo’s direction, trying to chivvy everyone into place. There was a kind of luminous quality to him, one that made him want to blink every few moments to see if his eyes were lying to him. Beyond them Jeonghan rested back against one of the statues with his eyes closed; his _hyung_ had his head on the Hwarang’s lap, sleeping. Biting his lip, he watched Mingyu and Jisoo return from meditation; the elder’s eyes were still red, and Chan could have sworn he had heard him cry late last night.

If only he could remember what had happened.

His sigh drew a companion; as he slumped on one of the walls Hansol sat down beside him and gave a wide smile.

“You nervous?” the blonde boy asked, large hands and strong shoulders settling against the wall with a shrug.

Chan bit his lower lip. “A little,” he admitted. “And worried. Tenken- _san_ will protect the others but I worry about them, and I don’t fit in here.”

Hansol’s gaze dropped away from Seungkwan to focus on him. “You don’t _not_ belong here,” he pointed out. “It’s going to take time to get over what happened.”

Sighing again, Chan rubbed his chin against his knee for a moment or two. “Can you tell me about him?” he asked eventually, nodding towards Soonyoung. “I said thank you but I don’t remember why to say thank you, just that I woke in his arms. My brother says he’s friendly, but he’s not the kind of man I’d like to face in an arena.”

“Soonyoung- _hyung_?” Hansol grinned. “You know those guys that try to solo everything just to prove that they can? I met him this year, but I can still remember it – I’d just about gotten onto the server and gotten lost in territory way above my head, and he came to get me out. I had thought I could reset back to a checkpoint, but I didn’t know then that you have to walk out of the Ghost Lands, that you can’t recall from them.” He shook his head. “You’re more likely to face him in an eating contest than in an arena.”

“Really?” Chan said, brightening. “I love eating, now that Minghu- _hyung_ has made things taste better.”

Hansol laughed until he leant forward. “Don’t try that against him, you’ll lose horribly. I’ve seen him stick whole burgers into his mouth, even in real life. I… oh hell, I know that look.”

Dino, eyes aflame, didn’t feel quite so nervous anymore, and straightened with Ishikiri in his hand. “I can do better.”

Leaping up, Hansol snaffled one sleeve of the maknae’s heavily embroidered jacket. “Slow down, or your griffin isn’t going to want to carry you to Naminara.”

Dino hesitated, pouted and finally nodded. Still, laughter sounded between them as they wandered over to the packing area, right as Soonyoung hollered for everyone to form up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   * The music for the chapter is Jun's impeccable [cover](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cd3_YqMUmuQ) of 1983's 'I'm Sorry, I Love You'. 
>   * The piece that Jun plays on the [guqin](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Guqin) can be found [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h0AAFhx3RmA). 
>   * A peek at some new people. BTS won't feature heavily in this fic, just as one of the other guilds trying to create order out of chaos. 
>   * This chapter fought me like you wouldn't believe. Sorry it's so late. 
>   * So the group is finally off to Naminara, and this is the second arc of the story. 
>   * Hints of a turbulent past for Jun, one not even Minghao knows about. What was his previous life like? 
>   * Xiāng Lián or 香莲桥 (Perfumed Lotus Bridge) will still come into play later on. 
>   * Yīngjié means gallant hero and Wěizhé means great sage. 
>   * Xīn Yuè means new moon (Thank you Aaaa!), and is a shortening of Minghao's title on the Chinese server. 
>   * The tea house they were in looks like [this](https://farm2.static.flickr.com/1892/43606343664_84b8a4503b.jpg). 
>   * As a reminder, the actual guildhouse is the Kingdom of Naminara, centered on [Namiseom Island](https://ohfact.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/02/Nami-Island-696x392.jpg). 
> 



	17. Act 1: Backstory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a discussion of major illness in one of the major characters of the story. If that triggers you at all, please read carefully and do not push yourselves.

It was a lovely morning for flight. There weren’t many airborne enemies around, the rain last night had left the sky intensely blue, and it was oddly warm, even on griffin-back. Everyone was flying as close together as possible, laughing and joking and singing with various levels of competency; the whole mad gleeful noise of it reminded Jisoo of the unabridged Tolkien, where everyone had gone through life declaiming poetry and singing with the elves. Or something.

He felt like crying again. Where once there had been a tiny kernel of warmth in his heart, right where the link to Soo-tan had burned, there was nothing now beyond the taste of ashes on the back of his tongue. The drop had been so remotely miraculous the first time that he’d never get it back – having the phoenix egg drop was less than a tenth of a percent, to say nothing of the trials he had gone through to raise Soo-tan: the months of bottle-feeding him, the constant struggle to get close to his clan, the delirious joy when Byeol had finally deigned to acknowledge him.

He tried very hard not to hate Lee Chan for what he had to give up, but it was _hard_. He felt as if he had had to give up his baby, all for a young man that couldn’t decide whether he wanted to be brash or shy. Or Jeonghanie’s baby, which seemed very likely.

No levels gained, no acknowledgement of the sacrifice he had made. It felt as if everyone had simply forgotten.

He took a deep, shuddering breath and wiped surreptitiously at the tears that didn’t seem to want to stop and once again tried to stop hating Lee Chan.

He looked up to see Minghao juggling mid-air for Mingyu’s entertainment and bit the inside of his lip savagely. Through some luck he was the odd one out in the doubled-up griffin run; instead of another person he only had packs to press into his back, and there was one that bit slightly into it, making him shift uncomfortably.

Mind-shift he stilled and stared at Wonwoo again, this time sharper. The healer’s eyes were fluttering open and shut, and he looked half-asleep. _::Wonwoo-ya. Did you get enough sleep?::_

_::Jisoo-hyung.::_ Wonwoo’s voice was even deeper in the depths of his mind, but oddly familiar, slotting into place with ease. _::Ah… not really. Sorry, am I lagging? I had wanted to talk to you later.::_

_::Sure. What is it?::_ Jisoo thanked his lucky stars telepathic communication didn’t convey emotion, just words.

_::My breathing is starting to get worse. I thought I could cope, but the longer we’re here, the worse it’s getting. The others are starting to notice; Seungkwanie’s asking questions.::_ A pause stretched slowly. _::I told him it’s nothing to worry about.::_

The sadness Jisoo had felt doubled, then transmuted to dread. _::I thought the treatment plan the hospital had you on was keeping it from progressing, Wonwoo-ya. What do you mean it’s getting worse?::_

_::I mean it’s getting worse. I coped well the first few days here, but I noticed a change after the dungeon we got the others out. After the fight with Fakerr and Seungkwanie’s limit break on me it got worse. I’ve tried self-healing and Mingyu-ah’s tried some as well, but you know the problem… it’s the same as Soonyoung-hyung’s legs in the beginning.::_

Jisoo pinched his eyes shut. After the appearance reset potions he had almost forgotten the odd effect of mind and body arguing like that. They had simply adapted too fast. _::You were high on the transplant waiting list, weren’t you?::_

_::Yes, but I don’t know whether that’ll happen now.::_

He had read up on pulmonary fibrosis the first time that Wonwoo had told him in confidence; he was the only one that had known then, and still now. He remembered going through pages and pages of research to try and find out more about it. He remembered going to visit him in hospital, seeing the bespectacled, thin boy for the very first time at age fifteen. Remembered how he had sung in his soft, deep, breathy voice, and then coughed until he wheezed.

He remembered being proud that his friend had defied all expectations. By that point he had fought the illness since ten; that had been over a decade ago.

Now, oddly, he also remembered the empty ashes in his chest again. He risked a look sideways at Wonwoo – it wasn’t difficult to find him, this time with Seokmin behind him – and contemplated. His mind spun. _::If…::_ he hesitated, grasping for a chance. _::If being in the game can affect our real bodies, then that can go both ways, right? There’s magic here? There should be real doctors here somewhere.::_

_::Hyung.::_ Even in his mind Wonwoo sounded tired now. _::Hyung, I don’t think we’re in a game. I think we’re somewhere a lot like it. I’m a good healer – a great one actually – but I’ve not been able to do anything. It’s not a status condition, it’s not something that can be cured by a Skill, it just is. I simply don’t have that much time left to fight it. That’s why I wanted to talk to you. I don’t know how to break it to the others.::_

Jisoo’s reaction was immediate, a jerk of his body that sent his griffin dipping for a moment, causing the box to bite deeper into his back. _::No. We are not doing that, we are_ not _, and stop saying things like that. You’ve beat the disease for ten years already. You’re not going to let some goddamn stupid game get you now!::_

Wonwoo didn’t respond, merely cast him a tired look from his griffin before facing forward again. Jisoo’s bite into his lip drew blood; if he could have hauled one of his lungs out here he’d have done it in an instant.

It was a _game_. There had to be a solution somewhere. There _had_ to be. He’d just not rest until he found it.

It was Hansol and Jun that spotted Naminara on their third day’s travel; Jun had the cliched eyesight of the elves, and Hansol was scarcely five seconds slower. It was Soonyoung that set the air alight with the sound of his roaring approval, uttering a loud roar that rang through the air like a clarion. “Home!” he shouted excitedly, pointing towards the left. “Look, there’s Maseok in that direction, I live there, and there’s Namiseom! We’re almost home guys!”

Silence fell as they looked at the jewel of an island from high. The one outside the game had many structures on it; this one had only the ones they had approved, and the rest of the island was a fiery glory of autumn foliage with the brown-blue snake of the Han circling it lazily before meandering off to Seoul. It felt oddly hushed, but seconds later their griffins rippled through an invisible barrier in the air and the place came alive around them. There was birdsong greeting them as they touched down, cats lounging on little perches here and there, dogs barking far off and wilder animals stirring through the forest. The air above the island threatened purple with more rain, and there was a distinct autumnal tang to the air.

They all dismounted in a fell rush, eager to get to the rooms they had claimed in the other version. One by one the griffins disappeared, leaving everything neatly stacked, until it was just three people remaining in the courtyard. Jisoo could feel their gazes on him, heavy and inquisitive. When he finally found the strength to look up, Seungcheol was looking worried and Jeonghan pensive.

“What is it?” Seungcheol asked softly as he gave a step closer. “Is something wrong?”

Jeonghan stayed apace with him. “You’ve been off since the Palace, Joshuji.”

“It’s Wonwoo,” he interrupted harshly, hiding his hurt away in the dark places of his heart. It didn’t matter, it didn’t _matter_ right now. “Wonwoo is…”

A light bloomed between them before he could speak. The point of light broadened into a spark, then a line, and finally into a full image. It seemed a hologram of GD lounging high on a wall somewhere.

The hologram nodded. “It’s arranged,” he said simply. “A week from now in Seoul. Meet us at Gyeongbokgung. Your access has been arranged.” For a second he paused. “Primacy has been spotted on the move. Don’t tarry in the wilds too long, wherever you are.”

Seungcheol frowned and lifted hands to scrub his face, shoulders wilting a little. “At least we’re safe here. I’m sorry, what was that about Wonwoo?”

“Never mind.” It wasn’t fair, heaping another worry on them, and Jisoo could not find it in himself to explain as they turned to wander inside.

* * *

The moon wandered over the night-dark river like a silver streak through inky hair. There were no sounds of civilisation beyond the distant laughter of everyone back in the guild hall. It felt damp too, thanks to the rain from earlier, and Wonwoo breathed in slowly and deeply. It was like guided meditation, trying to get enough oxygen into his lungs without collapsing into a coughing fit.

In, out.

In, out.

In…

…out.

Wonwoo wasn’t really the type to cry on consider things unfair. Seungkwan was the crier in their guild, the sulker, the guy that lived so in touch with his feelings. Wonwoo felt like a distant, pale copy of his adorable dongsaeng.

In, out.

In… out.

It was such a struggle to keep things easy, to keep on breathing sometimes. He had wanted to die plenty of times in the thirteen years since his diagnosis. He had had treatments, biopsies, gene-sequencing, all whilst a horrid network of scars slowly grew in his lungs and restricted whatever he might have imagined as his life’s potential. He had grown used to swelling like a balloon and being rake-thin.

He had grown used to hoping that someone would die just so that he could get new lungs. It felt horrid, _horrible_ , demeaning.

At least in this world it only felt tiring, like it would be an easy death. He could breathe out and never feel the pain of breathing back in.

He could…

A tall form cast shadows against the illuminated pier and resolved into Mingyu. He didn’t speak at once, just moved to sit next to him, putting his things down and rolling up his pants to stick his feet into the water.

“If this was the Amazon, you’d risk having your feet eaten off,” Wonwoo muttered as he looked sideways to admire Mingyu’s moonlit profile. Their druid really was a beauty, tall and handsome in the skin he whined about being too tan.

“Tell me about the Amazon, _hyung_.”

And so Wonwoo did, talking about the rain-forest and deforestation and monkeys and piranhas and native tribes. Everything he could remember having read through days of lying in a hospital bed after one of his attacks.

Mingyu took his hand to squeeze it, but kept it there afterwards. “You’re so clever, _hyung_. I wish I knew as much. I only read the odd manhwa.” He stopped speaking for a moment. “Your hands are very cold. Aren’t you cold sitting here?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Wonwoo muttered. “Have you ever heard the story of East Light and the Bridge of Fishes? It’s a story about how Chosen got its name or rather… how the Joseon dynasty got started? You’d like it, it’s filled with lots of action and strange things happening.” He didn’t feel weak enough to lean into Mingyu’s heat, but didn’t shy away when Mingyu leaned himself. It all starts at Baekdusan, where a beautiful young maiden that served a king looked up at Dragon Peak, as it was called in those days…”

Mingyu gave an embarrassed giggle. “ _Hyung_ , reading about beautiful maidens, that’s not what scholars like yourselves should do!” Wiggling his robe out from beneath his butt, he stretched out an arm to rest around Wonwoo’s shoulders, covering him in the expanse of winter-weight silk.

Wonwoo slowly breathed in, breathed out and inhaled Mingyu’s sandalwood-and-man scent. “You’d be surprised at what scholars read,” he muttered. “Now let me get on with it. So she looked up at Dragon Mountain and dreamt that there was a river there, trickling from Dragon Pool – what we call Heaven Lake now – and fantasized about having a son that might rule, much like the king that she served.”

Water splattered against the pier as the Han had a little hiccup, and flattened out again as he told the story of East Light and the Bridge of Fishes. In the distance thunder rolled as the rainstorm cycled and came back. As he spoke his lungs grew a little easier with the wet air and he lost his sense of time until lightning walked over the surrounding hills with forked fingers and Mingyu tugged him up.

“Come on, _hyung_ ,” the taller said. “Before both of us get a cold let’s rather go inside where it’s warmer.”

Tired, Wonwoo made his way to his feet, and was just about to turn when a particularly large bolt struck very close to them. It blinded him and he cowered down to be smaller than the trees around him. Mingyu pounced on him, likely to cover him, but in his clumsiness they bumped too hard together and then there were hands and a shouting of spells and his feet slipped…

Objectively it was barely a second’s fall to the water, but subjectively it seemed forever as he stared wide-eyed at the strange face looking up at him from the water. There were hands on him, too many hands and he shouted as they hauled him under. He hit the roiling surface of the Han face-first, spasming as water surged into his mouth and down his throat, into his tired, aching, scarred lungs. There, in the flash of drowning and capture, he thought again about death and went willingly into the shadows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   * The hints that Wonwoo was very sick has been dropped for a while now -- did anyone get them? 
>   * [Pulmonary fibrosis](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pulmonary_fibrosis) is a very serious, terminal illness in which lungs develop scar tissue and thicken, making it difficult for the body to breathe and get enough oxygen to live. There is currently no cure except a transplant. Please take care when you read that link, it pulls no punches. 
>   * [Gyeongbokgung](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gyeongbokgung) was the main royal palace in the Joseon era. It has been hinted at before, when Seungkwan noted in their guild hall location search that it's already been claimed. 
>   * If you're interested, you can read the fairy tale [here](https://fairytalez.com/east-light-bridge-fishes/). I adapted it a little to fit to the Joseon dynasty's beginning. 
>   * Thank you to everyone that saw a piece of this chapter before I posted and commented on its flow. 
>   * In case the end is a little vague or confusing, they're getting kidnapped. 
> 



	18. Arc I:  The Sound of Sacrifice

_Beloved._

Seokmin shifted, dreaming of swimming in an idyllic tropical paradise. The water tasted sweet as he surged through it far faster than normal. He was whooping in his dream, more than loud enough to drown out the voice calling faintly.

_Beloved!_

The voice rang through his dream again, more than loud enough to be heard, but he still ignored it, trying to get to a dolphin that was teasingly swimming just ahead of him. It was chittering happily, daring him deeper into the sea, flipping over and over to taunt him.

**_BELOVED._ **

The voice rang so hard in his dream the sea exploded and surged him up into the air as thunderclouds boiled with the sea’s spume reaching high enough to hit them. The ocean was no longer a tropical paradise, but a hurricane-lashed predator. He landed in it, went under, fought his way back to the surface. Someone reached in to pluck him out by the hair, having little care for how much it hurt. He had to fight his eyes open against the burning agony in his lungs, but when he did it was to a woman with eyes as moody as the sea. She held him as he hacked his lungs clear, shook him until he looked at her again.

_Beloved, you must wake. Your friends are in danger. They are in the river, and the water is screaming to me. You must wake!_

Seokmin fought his eyes clear, utterly confused. “What?” he mumbled into the howling wind around him. “Who? Who are you talking about?”

The woman looked frustrated, stormy eyes casting to and fro in her haste to find an explanation. _Listen to the river!_

With one mighty surge of her shoulders she threw him away; Seokmin screamed as he was about to hit the sea. Instead he woke up, drenched in sweat and tumbling off his bed. His heart beat overtime in his chest and a nameless dread filled his mind. Manifesting his staff, he ran out the small bedroom, thundering through the sleeping section of the guild hall. He ran loudly enough that others stumbled out, and the younger members were still in the main hall having a rap battle as he thundered through it, nearly bursting through the main doors in his haste to get outside.

He had a trail of people all the way to the river, never mind the thunder and rain and lightning, and when he skidded to a halt on the small pier Jihoon was right beside him, hands already glowing with magical energies.

“What is it?” Jihoon growled. “What?”

Seokmin cast about wildly until he spotted it: just below the pier, almost hidden, a torn sleeve from Mingyu’s outfit floated, and further away the bank’s mud was churned up in a scuffle. “I don’t know. I woke from a dream that there was danger, but it was so confusing? She kept telling me to listen to the river. Look there, was that a fight? Is anyone missing?”

Soonyoung, already to the place of the scuffle, hunkered down and touched something in the mud. When he held it up his fingers shone slickly wet, and he frowned as he brought them to his nose. “Blood,” he muttered. “Not familiar. Seungkwanie, run and fetch the others. Jihoon-ah, how are you with water spells?”

Jihoon shook his head, frustrated. “Not that good. Mostly ice and fire.”

Seokmin, half-mired in memories of the dream, advanced onto the small pier and looked down at the surging waters of the Han as Seungkwan ran off to the hall. Mystified, he reached to swing Pride of the Ocean off his back and reached it down into the water, gasping with the power that flooded through him. It pulled him off the pier, spat him out into the Han, and the vision exploded before his eyes.

_Wonwoo and Mingyu, sitting and talking. The feeling of strangers in the belly of the Han. The naiads scattering in fear. Wonwoo and Mingyu, being attacked. Being dragged under. The feeling of pain, of drowning, then the feeling of strong bodies taking victims away._

_Listen,_ the Han whispered to him. _Listen. They’re in danger. Can you hear them?_

_I can. They’re so far away already…_ in his mind’s eye the images spilled, passed on from naiad to naiad to naiad, tracking the kidnappers’ boat as far as they could. He had never thought that the Han could be alive before, but now he did see it, a composite intelligence made of everything that lived in its depths. _What are they saying? I can hear the naiads, but the language is strange?_

“…why is he standing on the water?” he heard sharply behind him.

_Jisoo. His Undines._ Something clicked in his head. _He can talk to them, he knows their language. I can only hear them singing…_

Pulling himself from the conversation with the river, Seokmin moved back to the pier, feet wet but body never sinking. “ _Hyung_ ,” he said, hearing the overtones of the river in his voice as he spoke. “ _Hyung_ , come and listen.”

He pulled Jisoo onto the river with him. Out, further out, to where the Han roiled deep and true. He reached up with one hand, cupped it over Jisoo’s ear and leant to sink their foreheads together. “Listen,” he urged softly. “Listen.”

Between them power bulked large and spread out, making a net to cover the river. He could taste the grief deep in his _hyung_ ’s heart, felt the self-loathing like bitter acid on the back of his tongue. He inhaled, shuddering against the sudden tears that threatened.

_There is an ocean of grief in this heart._

He fought to ignore it, falling into the depths of the vision with Jisoo.

* * *

Mingyu felt frantic with confusion and fear. The river pirates had dragged them under and then onto a boat, and now they were sailing down the Han at breakneck speed thanks to a spell. It was dark and wet and uncomfortable, and Wonwoo- _hyung_ lay in the bilges like a wet rag as the pirates searched him roughly.

“Where is it?” one demanded.

“How should I know? I’m not a demi-human like an Adventurer! Why were you so rough? Did you have to bang him around like that?”

“He’s just half-drowned, not all the way there. It’s not as if he’s going to die from this.”

Mingyu struggled against the ropes, tried to get closer. “Stop it!” he yelled at them. “Stop it, you’re hurting him!”

The tip of a dagger against his carotid stilled him. “Shut up,” the pirate standing guard over him growled. “Don’t think we know how you work! Where is it!”

Mingyu boggled, tried to slide away from the dagger. He was too confused for spells, all his attention focused on Wonwoo’s too-cold, too-pale face. Biting his lip, he tried to surge forward despite the risk. “He’s not going to be able to give you whatever the hell you want whilst he’s unconscious!” he snarled. “Just stop and let me heal him!”

“The staff! We want the staff! Alvs damn it, why isn’t this boat going faster!”

“It’s in his inventory, you moron!” Mingyu shouted, still desperate besides the hand that tried to haul him back. “If he’s unconscious you will never get to it!”

A rough argument over his head resulted in his hands being cut loose and a boot kicking him in the back, propelling him over to half-fall on Wonwoo. Grunting, ignoring the pain, he scrabbled to haul him around and over, leaning on his back once, twice, pushing in rhythmic surges. He had once learnt this as a lark, but he never thought he’d really need it…

Water gushed out of Wonwoo’s mouth, dribbling down into the bilges. Mingyu kept at it, until a frantic wet coughing made his breath hitch. His _hyung_ coughed as if his lungs were tearing apart, too-thin Ritian body spasming and convulsing with the force of it. He had just enough time to send a burst of healing magic into him before the pirates were on them again, hauling Wonwoo’s limp form up to shake it like a wet rat.

“Where’s the staff?” the pirate screamed at his _hyung_.

Another, this one at the prow of the boat, looked around uneasily. “Gen,” he warned. “Something’s slowing us down. The spell the witch sold us isn’t working like it should.”

_Gods. We’re already going so fast, I don’t even know where we are. How much faster do they want to go?_ He tried to send a call for help, but it echoed oddly in his head, telepathic communication blocked.

The pirate with Wonwoo cursed and flung him at Mingyu, who barely caught the limp body in time. Wonwoo’s eyes were sheened over and not all there; there was blood on his lips and all Mingyu could do was wrap his arms around him, send as much warmth into him as possible. “It’s okay,” he muttered, lips pressed against a wet temple. “It’s okay, _hyung_. I’ve got you. Lie still.” Desperate, he reached his senses deep into Wonwoo’s body, trying to heal what damage there was. “Come on. I’ve got you. Breathe, breathe….”

The lead pirate snarled. “Five minutes. If it doesn’t speed up by then, we’ll sacrifice the tall one to empower the array.”

Mingyu pinched his eyes shut, desperately trying to plan a getaway.

* * *

Seokmin stood in the middle of a torrent of water, unable to do anything but watch as Jisoo spoke a language that bubbled. There were Undines all around them, clustered thick as the Summoner spoke; the eldest had a jewel on her forehead that glowed like a star in the darkness. There was some kind of negotiation going on, he couldn’t tell what precisely, but he couldn’t look away, locked in Jisoo’s grip.

Seokmin had never quite seen blue eyes like that, glowing with power; he was quite sure it wasn’t natural, but what it _was_ he didn’t know. He was being drained of mana slowly but surely, used as a channel. Distantly he wondered whether this was what Seungkwan felt like all the time, but his thoughts were fuzzy. It was only with a supreme effort of will that he managed to tear his gaze away and see the rest of their guild on the shore.

“Pay attention,” Jisoo hissed at him, lips so close he felt the burbling language wash over his one cheek. “Call the others. Tell them to come into the water and to hold on. Whatever they do, they _must not let go._ Tell them!”

With the way that Jisoo clenched his shoulders, Seokmin caught the faintest hints of a bubbling language, something about a sacrifice, something about payment, but he obeyed the order, reaching out to those on the shore.

::Get in the water!:: he called to them. ::Get in the water and hang on! Jisoo- _hyung_ ’s doing something!::

Splashes came, but then a hand tugged his chin around again and he was once again trapped in blue eyes.

“Below, above, serpent drenched in heaven’s tears – speak the thousand wisdoms, oh ye who girts the world – sing of the thousand crowns, lift thy glorious head and roar. Descend to the deepest depths, and hear my prayer.” Seokmin shivered in the grasp of the spell, feeling the ocean in Jisoo’s heart surge and roar. It was a gate, a _gate;_ he was reaching into a world that Seokmin could not see, only feel, and all the bard could get out was a whimper of pain as he was sucked dry.

_It won’t hurt you. The price is not yours to pay._

Jisoo’s voice in his mind, grave and sad. Seokmin knew what he meant. He would not have to pay the price, but Jisoo would, just like he had last time. Around them the Undines faltered, fell to water and disappeared, drained of their power as the Summoner reached through and beyond.

“Open, Gate of Sorrow: Cheong-ryong, rear your head!”

Power guttered out of Seokmin as he was drained dry, and he saw Jisoo fall to his knees. They sank like stones, water closing over their heads, but in the next moment they were airborne, they and the rest of the guild, as the Han answered the call and lifted from its banks. It formed a huge serpent, larger than Seokmin had ever seen before, bearing them all on its roiling back.

The Azure Dragon’s roar thundered in the night, louder than the lightning that shied away from it, and bore them East.


	19. Act I: Miracles

Seungcheol scrambled up the length of the watery dragon to the head, sinking down on one knee next to Joshua’s seated form. His best friend was starting forward intently, eyes still blue-blue with power, and nothing he did woke him. Cursing, he scooped up Seokmin instead, tugging him back to where the others could keep a hold of him. “No response,” he said tersely, balancing with all the strength his thighs had to offer. “The lights are on, but there’s no one at home in his head. I honestly don’t think it’s Jisoo steering Jisoo’s body at the moment.”

Chan looked frightened at the very end of the circle, though his sturdy body had no problem keeping both himself and Jihoon safely on the roiling surface. It seemed to be the pattern for all of them; strongest around the outside of the straggled line to keep those less strong safe. Jihoon, down on hands and knees, seemed to be in some sort of communion with Seungkwan, who was pale and shaking at the center of the entire knot. Minghao was there too, equally unresponsive.

Jeonghan, spotting his worried glance, grimaced. “They’re converting their magic into energy for Seungkwan to use. If we don’t get there fast, they won’t be any good, they’ll be as dry as the river back there. I have no idea what this summons is, but it’s requiring a lot of energy.”

“The blood Soonyoung-ah pointed out smelled old,” Seungcheol muttered, resting Seokmin in the protective circle of the strongest members. “Hours old perhaps. I’m not sure we _can_ catch up. Jun-ah, you’ve got the best eyes, I want you to go up front and holler if you see _anything._ ” He paused long enough to get a murmur of agreement before locking eyes with their Medium. “Hansol-ah, I know you’re not a dedicated healer but you’re all we have right now. Don’t share your magic, no support, just healing. Got that?”

Hansol nodded, eyes moon-sheened and bright with determination. “Yes, _hyung_.”

Soonyoung moved to stretch his arms as Hansol shuffled inwards, curling his being around the more vulnerable members. “Why aren’t they recalling or even talking to us?” he muttered.

Shaking his head, Seungcheol leant in. “I’m not sure,” he admitted. “Perhaps they’re unconscious or sleeping. I wish I knew how the attackers got into protected Guild waters. All other guilds are on a strict invitation-only basis.”

Jeonghan canted his head. “What if it wasn’t a guild?” At the others’ confused looks, he shrugged. “We were warned about Primacy, but what if it’s not a guild at all, just normal Landers? They’re independent now, they can likely be hired for such tasks. We’ll have to rethink our security.”

Soonyoung’s expression turned unhappy. “Why would they kidnap them though? What do they have that they couldn’t just steal if they killed them?”

Wind rushed past as all of them struggled to answer that question, until Hansol gave a start. “I… could it be his staff? I think it’s the most expensive thing we have, but I don’t understand why they couldn’t just take that like Soonyoung- _hyung_ says? Unless it’s account-locked? I never even thought to ask, but some weapons are like that. When I contract to fix them, I have to get strict permission from the owner to even hold them. Unless… I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

It was the most words the Medium had spoken in a day; Seungcheol grimaced and wished they didn’t make as much sense. “It might be. He told me that he woke up with it on him, that it was because he ‘had won’ somehow. Its name is Gesshoku or something like that. Made it sound like it came from the Japanese server. Sacrament-class.”

Dino leaned in. “Gesshoku?” he breathed. “Yes, it means lunar eclipse. That’s an incredibly powerful weapon then. We had rumours on the boards over there about another class, but I’ve never seen one – I don’t think even _Tenken_ -san has. Even Ishikiri is phantasmal-class. It could be that there are different rules that bind them? I just… we’ve never seen one on the Japanese server and trust me, people have searched for them. Why would it be ending up here, on a Korean? Has he ever played there?”

Seungcheol shook his head. “Not as far as I know. Jisoo’s his closest friend in the group, he might know. We’ll have to ask him when we get them back.”

At that moment, a cry came from the front. “Boat spotted!” Jun called. “We’re catching up!”

“Holy shit,” Chan said, and no one scolded him. “That was _fast_.”

Seungcheol straightened with a grimace and prayed they weren’t about to capsize an innocent. “Gear up,” he advised his guildmembers. “I want to hit them as fast as possible.”

* * *

Mingyu didn’t feel incredibly sanguine about his chances for survival. The last few moments had been a mad whirl as the pirates tried everything to get the boat to go faster. He tried to stay out of their way as much as possibly, thanking his lucky stars Wonwoo curled up into such a small ball despite his height. He was still worried about him: despite the energy he was expending, his _hyung_ wasn’t getting warmer at all and his breathing was worryingly faint, so faint he wondered whether he was breathing at all here and there.

He didn’t miss it when coherence returned to Wonwoo’s eyes. One, then two tired blinks, and his _hyung_ canted his head just enough so that they no longer reflected the stars. The whisper of his name was very silent, barely a shaping of thin, trembling lips.

“Don’t talk,” Mingyu whispered fiercely. “Don’t talk, as long as they think you’re unconscious they won’t be back to bother you. Keep breathing slowly.” Despite his warning Wonwoo struggled to sit up straight, but had no strength to do so. It looked as if whatever happened had simply strapped all his reserves.

“Mingyu.” It was a gurgling, choking sound, as if there was still water left in his lungs from earlier. “I can’t…” He turned his head to cough weakly, but it was enough to attract attention from the pirates.

“He’s awake!” one of them shouted to the leader of the band, forcing Wonwoo out of Mingyu’s grasp. “Give us the fucking staff!”

One breath, then two as they shook him, before Wonwoo kicked, then went limp. There was screaming all around them, but Mingyu couldn’t unsee it, couldn’t shake the feeling that he had just witnessed something horrible. His heart beat once, twice, before the last of his self-control snapped. Roaring, he surged up with all the power in his tall, muscled body. The dagger of the pirate that had been holding him dragged down his side, but there was no stopping that surge; he bowled the man clear off the boat as he reached desperately for Wonwoo.

_He’s not despawning, he’s not disappearing. What the fuck is going on? Why isn’t he moving to the Cathedral like normal? Others have respawned, right? What’s going on? He can't be dead, right?_

There were more screams. His mind vaguely registered that there was something going on beyond the bubble around them, but the largest part of his attention rejected that, choosing instead to look at the slack features of the man in his arms. No gasp, no indrawn breath, no matter how he slapped at his chest with increasing desperation. Gasping, he put him down as flat as he could, felt for a pulse and didn’t find one. “Don’t you dare,” he snarled, leaning down on his chest rhythmically and tilting his mouth to blow air directly down his throat. “Don’t you fucking dare!”

There was the taste of water on his lips, the brackish taste of river-water that he had to spit out. Back to the chest. Back to the mouth. Over and over.

Someone was shouting at him, but he hunched like a tortoise and kept on doing it. Over and over and over as blows rained down on his back, and still the body beneath him wouldn’t move, wouldn’t start breathing on its own.

* * *

It felt like thunder in Jisoo’s head when he came to, not only because Soonyoung was already running past him and jumping off with a dopplering scream, but because he had to pull himself back from a country of dim fogs and thunder and high mountains.

_Look there,_ the immense presence in his mind insisted. _Look there, my Summoner._

He came to as someone slapped the shit out of him, a blow that had absolutely no mercy in it.

“Wake up!” the person yelled, voice high-pitched with stress. _Jeonghan._

He came to for seconds, only to see their main fighters leap off the head onto some boat they were hovering over; in the next second he landed hard on it as the dragon simply slumped back into the Han. It created a huge wave that almost capsized them, and the next few moments were a vast confusion. Seokmin lay halfway across his lap, Jihoon and Minghao were holding Seungkwan up, and somewhere Mingyu was roaring like a wounded bull. “I…”

“I’ll deal with you later, you stupid fuck!” Jeonghan snarled as he scooted past to help the other fighters. “Watch the others!”

Jisoo blinked. There seemed to be something missing in his head; he couldn’t think past the picture of the mountains in his mind. Opening his mouth, he soon shut it again, and tried to reel his train of thought together. The fight was over what seemed like five seconds later, and it finally cleared up enough to let him see what was going on. Wonwoo lay in the bilges in the front of the rickety boat with Mingyu over him, druid’s face awash with tears as he performed mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.

There came a flurry of movement as Hansol ran past, and he tried again to get his mind clear.

* * *

Mingyu felt tears run down his face. It wasn’t working, nothing seemed to be starting Wonwoo’s breathing again. Breathing in, he just about reached for his chest to start compressions again when Hansol thudded down onto his knees next to him, strong hands already moving to supplant his.

“Keep on breathing,” Hansol said. “I’ve got his chest.”

Mingyu nodded and moved back, switching to Wonwoo’s nose instead. Cupping it, creating a seal with his hands, he started as evenly as he could, wishing he had paid more attention in the class than the bare basics. His magics were very nearly exhausted from its efforts, but he breathed. Slowly, steadily, praying with increasing desperation. The pirates had called them demi-human, but Wonwoo was acting like a Lander heading for a final death, and he could not _bear it_ to lose the man that had been his guide for the past few weeks.

Their strategist, a guy he had wanted to call true friend as well as brother. Wonwoo with the cat-sly smiles and fondness for reading. Wonwoo, who could express displeasure or amusement with just a flick of eyebrow.

_What will you sacrifice to help him live?_

The voice fell into the frantic hustle of his thoughts like stone in a lake. Foreign, alien, but familiar somehow. He had… had he heard it before?

_What will you sacrifice to help him live?_

What wouldn’t he sacrifice for someone rapidly becoming a valued companion? They were guild-mates now. Mingyu struggled with the thought, all attention focused on the too-thin body beneath him. He stopped breathing for a second, swallowed, and pinched his eyes shut.

_Whatever I must._

The voice in his mind rang with the acknowledgement in his heart. An image appeared in his head, a thing to do, a warning that it’d change him forever. It was a choice equal to any he had made before, and it _was_ a choice. He looked inside, saw how it would change him, and felt a momentary suffusion of love and gratitude before the future clouded back over, disappearing from his thoughts.

When he sat up and brushed Hansol away, he didn’t think. Instead, gathering all that he was into a moment of clarity, he reached into his chest and plucked a great potential of energy out. His heart skipped a beat, then two, before it thudded frantically with the great pain around one lung. Gritting his teeth, he gathered the green-gold core of energy into his hand and moved to slam it into Wonwoo’s unmoving chest.

“Earthbond: Linked Living,” he gritted out through the pain, and sank his attention into Wonwoo. He saw the green energy crawl into his lungs, burning out the thick scars and ridges in one. The energy pushed out the rest of the water, lay itself like a thin membrane of energy over the worst of the places that remained in the other lung. “Revive!”

He fought through the pain again and inhaled as deeply as he could. Beneath his hands, Wonwoo’s lungs did the same, and pure untainted air entered the alveoli easily for the first time in over a decade. Wonwoo’s heart stuttered, then gained pace from his. When he sat back, there came a chime that reminded him of the voice in his mind, and his vision blurred as Wonwoo started breathing again, the pattern sustained by his.

Wonwoo’s eyes opened again, burning green for a moment before he tried to sit up. Even in the slim moonlight his skin seemed to flush with renewed life.

The last of Mingyu’s courage and willpower disappeared, and he burst out in furious tears of relief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   * Music for this chapter is from the [Untamed OST](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JbU23e1YD-w&t=442s). I believe the particular track, 08, is called 伤情, which Google insists translates to Shāng qíng or Injury. 
>   * It might sound counter-intuitive for an assassin to transfer mana, but like Wonwoo Minghao is a Ritian -- they have some of the highest magic percentages in Log Horizon. 
>   * For those uncertain of why Jeonghan of all people is cursing at Jisoo, it will be explained in upcoming chapters. 
>   * Sometimes, especially if the mouth might be obscured with fluid, you can use [CPR](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cardiopulmonary_resuscitation) on someone's nose. In RL, as in the article, CPR doesn't happen as often or have the revival chances you might think. Please get trained if you can at all afford it! 
>   * Conversely, CPR isn't actually handy in some instances. It really depends on the diagnosis, but better safe than sorry. Please see above re: training. 
>   * To [Landers](https://log-horizon.fandom.com/wiki/People_of_the_Land), Adventurers were often seen as brainless violent automatons. Immortal ones at that. 
>   * Minggyu's Overskill is revealed. In essence, he is now breathing for both of them as a sort of permanent magical effect. More to be explained later.
> 



	20. Act I: Guild Negotiations

They made their way back just as the sun rose over the jutting roof of the guild hall. It illuminated a very dispirited crew of people wandering inside; there was a shuffling at the door as they kicked off rain-wet shoes. Seungkwan, at the end of the line, didn’t look up when the first sounds of arguments among the _hyungdeul_ started. Instead, borrowing a bookcase to lean against, he pulled off one shoe after another, then cleaned up the mess from everyone dumping their gear. It gave him a moment to think, not that he really wanted to.

He missed his family so much it ached in his chest. He had taken talking to them every day for granted; laughingly arm-wrestling with his sister over premier couch position to see the TV, doing his homework under their watchful eye, eating his mother’s wonderful meals. Even in the university dorms he could call her when he liked, but now…

Gnawing on his lip he stripped wet cloth off his shoulders and sought a place to hang the costly silks, wishing instead for a fluffy sweater and jeans. Instead, taking a deep breath he made his way to the kitchen, collecting a one-armed hug from Jun on the way. When he meandered in, shutting the door on the loud argument taking place, he found Soonyoung already standing over the small pantry section and he went to wash his hands with little comment, then made to peel the first of many potatoes. Soonyoung smiled at him, but continued washing rice slowly and methodically. It was almost meditative, seeing him swirl the pot around again and again, casting off starch-laden water.

“Shouldn’t you be in bed?” his _hyung_ asked after the fifth or sixth rinse. “You used up a lot of energy to get us there.”

Seungkwan bit on his lip, careful around one curve of the potato, trying to peel it as thinly as Mingyu had shown him. “Minghao- _hyung_ and Jihoon- _hyung_ used up the most energy. I merely… merely converted, _hyung_. And I thought Mingyu- _hyung_ might be hungry after what he did. I thought I could make, um, something.”

Soonyoung made a noise as if he didn’t believe him, but let the topic go. The rice went onto the cooking fire after a while, and he joined Seungkwan in peeling potatoes. “You’re a good kid,” he muttered. “I’ll make us some _buddae-jjigae_ with those if you want? Unless you had other plans for them.”

Surprise cut a little through Seungkwan’s listlessness. “You can cook, _hyung_? Lucky, I can’t at all. I mostly just live off ramen in the dorms.”

“You’re in university?” At Seungkwan’s nod, Soonyoung grinned. “You’ll still learn to fend for yourself. I can at least make this, mostly it’s just tossing everything into the pot together.”

Seungkwan nodded again and rinsed his hands and the knife, then took up another potato. “Why… why is Jeonghan- _hyung_ so angry at Jisoo- _hyung_?” he asked, unhappily aware that he feeling pouty with fatigue. “I mean, he got us there and all! It was quick! I don’t understand. Are you guys going to leave?”

Soonyoung gave him a sideways glance. “Jeonghan- _hyung_ ’s angry because Jisoo- _hyung_ frightened him badly,” he explained. “And if you and the others hadn’t given him energy, it would have had to come out of him, and he could have hurt himself and Seokmin-ah. He jumped without discussing it with everyone first.” At Seungkwan’s inquisitive look he reached out to pat his shoulder. “We clicked so well together it’s easy to forget that we don’t know each other all that well yet. Perhaps Jisoo- _hyung_ was scared? Perhaps he was just over-eager. But he should have waited for us, especially since this is practically a new world to us.”

Seungkwan let it sink in over through the course of another three potatoes. “I was frightened too,” he finally admitted with a whisper. “I thought it was Primacy.”

Soonyoung considered him, then reached to take away the potato and knife before he carefully hugged him. “I was just as frightened,” he admitted as he pulled Seungkwan close. “But that’s not something we can sort out right now. For the moment, you’re safe, okay? We’re all here with you. None of us are leaving. I promise.”

Kwon Soonyoung had the ability to say the most embarrassing things with an uncaring face, Seungkwan mulled as he took in the warmth of the hug. But somehow, it was exactly what his heart had wanted to hear, so he squeezed back extra-hard and thanked his lucky stars. Even with his family gone, he still had friends.

* * *

Over an hour later, Soonyoung carried a huge bowl of stew out of the kitchen, shaking his head. Seungkwan was a good kid; when he finally relaxed from the night’s excitement he was back to eye-rolling, pouting splendour again, and had soon roped Hansol and Chan into helping him with the meal. Things had worked out okay in the end, so he felt free to meander along the long line of bedrooms with the steaming bowl in his hand. He paused outside Jihoon’s door, listened, then knocked quietly and went inside.

The room inside wasn’t quite dark, with just enough light coming past the sheets in front of the window to show the bed. Small and spare, there wasn’t much to see beyond a small figure curled into a ball. No sound either beyond the softest sound of breath; he felt almost guilty. Still, he put the bowl down and poked at Sleeping Beauty. One poke, then two, and soon he saw sleepy eyes fight to open. They focused muzzily on him, a frown growing after a second. “Nothing’s wrong,” he hastened to say. “Just food. Eat before you sleep further.”

Jihoon’s brows knit together with confusion, glancing in the direction Soonyoung pointed; when he turned to leave one hand reached out to snaffle a bit of his sleeve and tugged at it.

Soonyoung blinked and turned, then sat down at the end of the bed. He watched Jihoon slowly straighten, scrub at his face with both hands before he took the bowl of stew.

“I’m sorry,” came around a mouthful of food. “About being a bastard back in Busan. Thanks for carrying my dongsaeng around. I was worried, and I didn’t react well. I’m not usually an asshole. Sorry for what I said.”

“When you yelled at me because I smiled and said good morning?” Soonyoung looked thoughtfully at him. “Is this because you want another pillow?” he eventually teased, uncertain how to respond. “I can go and get Jeonghan- _hyung_ or Seungcheol- _hyung_.”

Jihoon grimaced and swallowed. “No,” he said quietly. “I just wanted to say it. Thanks for the food.”

Soonyoung nodded and left, more confused than ever. Clearly, understanding Lee Jihoon would be a lifelong assignment.

* * *

The next morning, Seungcheol eyed the guys sitting in the room and tried not to sigh. Jeonghan and Jisoo weren’t exactly angry at each other but definitely cool; half the guys looked tired, and the other half guilty. Somewhere, somehow, his smooth guild handling had turned into a comedy of errors. Ironically, Wonwoo looked the best of all of them, cheeks almost flushed with energy; Seungcheol wondered if he wasn’t getting high off all the oxygen his body was now getting. He looked so present he was almost out of focus.

“Alright,” he said. “Clearly there are a lot of issues to talk about, the first of which is this: we’re trapped in here now. That means that from now on, all heroics are off the table. The shit that we got away with previously is not going to fly anymore. We’re still functioning with the mentality that it’s easy, that we’ll just respawn and then log off and go and sleep the night. It’s not happening. Until we find out what is going on here, we’re at least going to try and act like people of moderate intelligence.”

Heads drooped, which was not what he had wanted, but he continued to get the point across. “We don’t keep secrets that might harm the guild. Along that vein: Wonwoo.” He cut his glance to his friend. “You should have told us. Not just because it might influence what’s going on, but because we are your friends. We would have been devastated if something happened and we didn’t know. We almost lost you last night; if Mingyu hadn’t done … whatever he did, we would likely have been without you this morning and I, personally, would have missed you dreadfully. Do you understand?”

Wonwoo swallowed, sharp eyes lifting to his. “It was personal in the beginning. I didn’t tell anyone, but I just… I don’t know what happened. Sorry. If anything strange happens from now on, I’ll tell you immediately.”

Seungcheol nodded and drew breath to speak. “We’ve been invited to Seoul by GD-ssi to investigate the possibility of forming a coalition with some of the guilds on the server. A round table, if you will, with the intent on governing Adventurer behaviour on the guild. It’s been pretty shitting in places so far, like that situation down in Daegu and Primacy. This morning the other leaders and I set the access permissions on this place so that no one can come in who is not invited; that goes for Landers as well as Adventurers now, so the place will be safe for the moment.”

Jisoo cleared his throat as Seungcheol nodded to him. “For those that don’t know. GD-ssi is the leader of Espiyas on the server, which is the highest-ranking raiding guild. Thanks to Mingyu’s discovery of real-tasting food and the deal we made with Jira-noona, they approached us along with Mikrokosmos.”

“Isn’t Mikrokosmos that guild that six-manned the Underworld Gate event?” Jihoon asked, eyes narrowing. “Not only a server first but a world first. Their strategy looked like madness but they shot through that thing like they had god-mode on or something.”

Jisoo nodded. “That’s them. Their strategist, RM, is apparently quite literally a genius.”

Wonwoo leant a little forward. “I’ve not had to deal with him in the arena either, so I’m not sure who would come out ahead there.”

Jeonghan sat a little straighter. “Be that as it may, we’re not a raiding guild either,” he said softly. “Espiyas had over two hundred members the Cataclysm happened; at the current moment their numbers are over double that and they have a good grip on Seoul. No challenges. What we’re not going to do is engage in a dick-measuring contest.”

Minghao smiled a slight, cool smile. “No need,” he said happily. “Mine is bigger.”

“…and if Chops can say that, I’m not even going to have to brag,” Jihoon added breezily.

Seungcheol fought not to roll his eyes but observed both Seungkwan and Chan doing it. “Regardless,” he muttered. “We leave in an hour. Make sure you have everything ready.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   * Mostly just talking. I hope not too boring. 
>   * In the next chapter we see some of the other guilds. Please don't crucify me if you faves aren't there, I had to ask my friends for some names. 
> 



	21. Arc I: New World Quest

Chan stared up at the huge complex in front of them, boggling at the size of it. Even from the air it had looked impressive; staring Gyeongbokgung Palace in the face without crowds milling around it and tour guides everywhere was daunting.

Hansol, strolling up to his side, leant against an entrance pillar as they waited for the _hyungdeul_. “It’s over forty hectares,” he said, peeking in through the main gate. “I think it’s some of the most valuable real estate in Seoul, what with the museums on the premises and so on. Have you ever been here?”

Shooting Hansol a look, Chan nodded. “Once on a school trip,” he said softly. “But it was much more crowded and we weren’t allowed to wander around in the actual palace.”

Mumbling something vaguely, Hansol reached to drape an arm across Chan’s back for a moment before Seungkwan came to steal them both away. It hadn’t been difficult forming a friendship with either of them, they were that close in age, and with the undercurrents going on amongst the _hyungdeul_ these days, he was happy to have two friends, even if one nagged a lot and the other often forgot to speak. They were almost all gathered when another group of griffins touched down, all but one of them solo riders.

Scooting to the side with Seungkwan and Hansol, he bowed and watched as a flurry of introductions flew around. Having heard even less of Mikrokosmos than the others, he simply observed: the leader was a tall tree of a man, almost as tall as Mingyu and with a kind smile; there were two older members, one of which was astoundingly handsome and immediately dropped the worst joke Chan had even heard. Scratch that, all of them were handsome, and he… wait.

He blinked and looked again, before giving a huge grin. “Hoseokie- _hyung_?” he asked, stepping closer to the ball of sunshine _hyung_ he had come to know from dance class. “Hoseokie- _hyung_? It’s me, Lee Chan?”

Hoseok blinked, gave a shriek and descended on him with hugs and pets on the head. “Channie!” he carolled, squeezing until it felt his ribcage would pop. “Guys!” he shouted over his shoulder. “Guys, come and meet Lee Chan, my dongsaeng at that dance school I temp at? Channie, I had no idea you played Log Horizon, I’m so sad to see you trapped! Are you okay? Is this your guild? Introduce me to everyone!”

By the time introductions were done and entrance granted, Chan almost had a headache from all the loud, happy noises. The eldest _hyung_ of the lot – Kim Seokjin - had promptly declared him ‘his child’, whatever that meant, which had roused Jeonghan and initiated another embarrassing round of ‘whose baby are you’; he felt grateful when the conference attendees left to go and have their talk. Seungkwan went with, having fallen into a flurry of conversation, and his brother had eyebrowed him but said nothing, leaving Hansol and himself to wander in the direction of the gardens.

Very faintly put out, he was still smoothing his hair to the sound of Hansol’s snickering when the faint whistle-thud, whistle-thud from a place that looked like an outdoor practice area lured them closer. They settled against the fence to watch the archer, who was a tall man with bleached-blonde hair.

“Is he good?” Chan asked after a while, curious.

Hansol made a mm-hm of sound. “See that bow? Phantasmal-class, it’s an extreme-range bow. See all the pointy bits? Those are stabilizer fins. I think it’s Yi’s Curve, in which case he’s very good indeed. His range is likely triple of what we’re seeing. The way he’s standing though, he’s more likely an assassin than simply a bow-user like myself, that requires a lot of aggro management.”

The man clearly heard them but said nothing, stoically continuing. It gave Chan the chance he had been waiting for; lowering his voice, he looked sideways at Hansol. “Dude,” he murmured. “Did you know that you stare at Seungkwan- _hyung_ a lot? What’s up there?”

Colouring slowly, Hansol gave an ineffectual shrug, lips tight against each other.

“Like Jihoon- _hyung_ stares at anyone that offers him a bowl of rice,” Chan continued, undeterred.

“I get it, ok?” Hansol said, irritated. “Look, can we not talk about this? I’ll try to stare less. Let’s get back to the conference.” He turned to wander off, back one long line of irritation.

Chan stared after him, faintly bewildered and a whole lot sorry; the mocking laughter from the guy practising didn’t make things better either. He sighed, turned to bow and hurried off after Hansol, mind already working on an apology.

* * *

Seungcheol thanked his lucky stars that they weren’t meeting in the room with the looming statues again; rather than that, GD’s people had led them to Gyeonghoeru Pavilion. The building was open to breezes but noises seem muted, more thanks to its construction than any special effort on GD’s part. Jisoo had done a quick count of heads and murmured that there were at least twelve guilds there that he could see, ranging from the massive production guilds like Gyeong-Hui to the miniscule, like the Redthorn Angels. Each had been allowed their leaders and scribes; there were close to forty people seated in a big oval, and suddenly he was glad of the breeze.

“Welcome,” GD said simply. “I’ll get right to the point. Things have been going to shit around here – sorry, ladies and weaklings – and it’s up to us to fix it. Each of you have been invited for a specific reason. You’ve all shown willingness to do something to stop the downward glide we’re facing. No matter what caused this, no matter how long it takes, I don’t want to live in a shithole whilst we’re figuring out how to get back. To that end, we investigated the situation a bit already. RM?”

RM nodded from his seat, taking the memo passed to him by Suga. “We’ve reached out to everyone we know and consulted the Guild records here in Seoul and Busan, just to make sure they were the same. From what we can tell, about twenty thousand Adventurers are trapped on here, of which the overwhelming majority are in various guilds. Societal breakdown has already been happening; it’s hard to punish someone effectively when all they do is respawn. In addition, the world is slightly changed from the game world we know; new dungeons and changes to existing ones, and there’s no easy questing system anymore. The Landers are just as bewildered as we are.”

Pausing to wait for the murmurs to die down, he continued. “A small but significant portion of the players are those that were hosting on the Korean servers at the time this happened. They have been unable to port back easily to their home servers.”

“And the other way around,” Suho from Fortuna muttered. “I have three of my executives trapped on the Chinese server; I can see they’re online from my friends list, but I can’t reach them.”

RM nodded. “Exactly. I…” He broke off as one of the women from Peppermint Street leant forward.

“Hwasa,” she introduced herself calmly but shortly. “Peppermint Street managed to make contact with a guild member of ours on the Scandinavian server.” At their boggled looks, she shrugged. “One of our mediums. She was meditating – don’t ask me – and managed to somehow contact a cousin of hers over there. Apparently, she was on a holiday there and got trapped in the Walled City of Hohen. She reports chaos; they’re back to an east and west Berlin. We’ve tried to duplicate her feat, but no luck. No amount of meditation helps, nor can she contact anyone else, but that contact’s remaining stable.”

RM grimaced. “At least we know it’s possible. Most of us struggle enough just getting from A to B, since there is no auto-mapping anymore, just the actual items.”

“At least we know how to make food taste good again,” Jira said apologetically. “That’s already a huge moral boost.”

“And I can have coffee again,” one of the guys from Fortuna grunted.

“The bottom line is that we know too little,” RM concluded. “We need to experiment if we’re going to find out what caused this, and for experimentation we need order. That’s why we invited you.”

“You’re representative of most people on the server,” GD said, taking over. “Raid guilds, production guilds, small guilds. I propose we work together to stop the increase in crime at the very least. You’ve all seen what’s going on out there, and that’s not even the worst.” He nodded to Seungcheol to continue.

Seungcheol took a deep breath. “When we initially arrived in Daegu after rescuing a guild member from one of the changed dungeons, there was no life in the city anymore. The guild that squatted there had taken themselves over to the point where they took what they wanted, whether that be newbies or vulnerable Landers and low-level players.”

“You mean…?” Irene from the Redthorn Angels asked, disgust clear on her face.

“Rape,” Suga said bluntly from his spot across the table. “Torture. Some _special_ players found out that if you’re careful about the pain you cause, it isn’t classified as fighting, so the Knights don’t come out to play. A lot of low-level characters are easy prey, thus the pot-farming too. My husband barely escaped. He’s still in his forties.”

Seungcheol fought the impulse to rub at his face. “There’s an additional wrinkle,” he muttered. “I trust that you’ve all heard of the name Keleni before.” At the nods around the table he continued. “Its leader should still be in jail, but we confirmed a sighting of him down in Busan in a new avatar. He’s the leader of Primacy, the guild behind one of the biggest pot-farming networks.”

“You’re kidding,” Minhyuk from Supernova said. “How could he do that from jail? Are you sure? That man’s an actual convicted criminal, didn’t he get ten years or something?”

“It’s confirmed.” Jisoo’s normally gentle voice was implacable. “I spoke to the man. He admitted it himself and made some threats.”

Onew from Casino Royale frowned. “A system of law and punishment only works if we have a credible threat. We don’t have prisons here, or a police force.”

RM and GD shared a long look. “There are ways of forcing a guild to disband,” RM said after a sort silence. “And you can block people from entering guild buildings, which effectively cuts them off their bank. You can also block resurrection at a Cathedral that you own.”

“That’s a hell of a threat,” Irene said. “Driving them into the wilderness may only make them more desperate. Do we really want that?”

“It’s the only credible threat we have at the moment, unless we start building Adventurer prisons,” Suga said sourly.

One of the gentlemen from Suju cleared his throat, waiting for everyone to fall quiet. “Slight problem with that,” he drawled, and with a flick of his fingers brought up a menu. “That presupposes the current owners won’t extort huge amounts for access. And interestingly, none of these are available for sale anymore. I know. We checked. Even if we do believe you about this threat, it’s not as if we can guarantee our own safety. Are we supposed to depend on your goodwill? What kind of shit are you trying to pull?”

Seungcheol watched GD’s expression twitch; he didn’t know who the other guy was, but clearly he had just offended the raid leader.

“Are you doubting our word of honour?” GD asked coolly.

“I only have your word that it’s good,” the guy responded. “I had the same from Primacy’s leader. Not to mention you’re not even the majority owner; both Daegu and Busan’s guild sectors belong to some two-bit little guild that lucked into money first and it looks like Jira snapped up Gwangju. I don’t even know the people who own Daejeon, I’ve never heard of them. All that’s going to happen is that a larger guild is going to roll into town, take it over and then we’re back to anarchy.”

Seungcheol felt a low growl start in his throat and moved to stand up, but stayed put as Jeonghan gently put a hand on his arm in caution. Beyond them, Jisoo had taken Seungkwan’s hand, who looked miserable and shrunk in on himself.

GD’s eyes were flaming; BTS’ RM looked distraught. “Is that a _threat?_ ” GD snarled. “You think you can take on Espiyas, bro?”

The guy laughed. “We have almost three times as many people as you. Your numbers don’t add up.”

Another scoff rippled through the room, this time from the only girl group on the raiding guilds side. “It’s less about numbers and more about quality, dimwit,” Tzuyu from Battle Angels snapped. “GD- _oppa_ ’s entire guild is above level eighty, do you really think your pathetic crowd of noobs will be able to do anything?”

RM lunged into the conversation with an edge of desperation to his voice, leaning forward to break line-of-sight between the two. “It’s not like that. We can form a cooperative, I’m sure the owners will be happy to…”

The guy from Suju eyebrowed him. “You can’t speak for the owners,” he pointed out. “You’re not one. I want a guarantee from them.” Wrinkling his nose, he stood. “I’ll give you until lunch to sort your shit out.”

Seungcheol watched them walk out, then looked back to the others. Most guilds looked concerned, with GD’s jaw clenched from anger and RM’s expression worried. Five minutes later, when everyone agreed to a break, he wondered whether recreating society was even possible.

* * *

“That could have gone better,” Jisoo said as he sank down that night on a couch in the room GD had made available to them.

Seungcheol didn’t bother replying. The meeting after lunch had been worse than the one before; Suju was still refusing to join and had publicly walked out later in the afternoon, leaving them down to eleven guilds. He couldn’t exactly blame them, but neither did he appreciate all the snarky remarks hurled their way. To make a bad day worse, his two fellow leaders still seemed at odds with each other, nervously over-polite and cautious.

Jeonghan frowned as he pulled off his outer robe, cracking his shoulders. “Where are the kids?”

“Still with the maknae line from Mikrokosmos, I think,” Jisoo replied. “It seemed better to give them a little money and some time off in the city, and GD- _hyung_ ’s people keep it safe enough here.”

As if summoned by the devil, a knock sounded and RM from Mikrokosmos peeked in. “Got a moment?” he asked in a friendly tone. “GD- _hyung_ ’s still steaming, so I thought I’d come and talk to you about something.”

Seungcheol rolled his eyes and motioned to the abundant couches. “Feel free. Unfortunately our cooks are out at the moment, so I can’t offer you anything. What do you want to talk about?”

RM made himself comfortable, long legs stretching out before him. “A little birdie told me you might be going for some serious travelling after this. Unless he was mistaken about all the provisions your guys were seen buying in Seoul?”

“We are,” Seungcheol said neutrally. “There are some questions we like answered, and if the past day has been any kind of example, we’ll have to go and get it ourselves. Why?”

“I’d ideally like to get as much information in to complete the picture we don’t have, and we’re somewhat stuck in Seoul until Jiminie levels up a bit more. I wanted to strike a bargain for all the information that you can bring back, wherever you’re going. Dungeons, the lay of the land, any burning issues, that kind of thing,” RM explained earnestly. “We can’t begin to speculate right now about what’s even happened.”

Seungcheol tilted his head. “And in return?” he asked cautiously.

“In return we’ll look after your areas and patrol them until you’re back,” RM explained. “Mostly Espiyas, but whoever has a moment from my guys too. I checked, you can delegate certain levels of permissions to others; we could draw a contract up with your scribe that sets out safeties and so on. That way there’ll be someone to watch for rejected guilds disbanding and trying under another name, or any big problems.”

Seungcheol looked at Jeonghan and Jisoo; they were tired of arguments as well, so both nodded. “We’ll draw up the contract in the morning,” he said. “We can hammer out all the terms then. For now, we’re just going to go to sleep.”

Rm grinned happily and stood. “Done! It’ll give Minnie time to talk to your assassin in any case, he’s been looking hard for tips. Goodnight.”

When he left, Seungcheol’s temper gave its last fillip of nerves, warning him that it would be exploding time soon. “Right,” he said as he stood. “I’m going to bed. In the morning I’m going to wake up and you two are going to be thick as thieves again, because I’m not getting on the road with two fellow leaders that are not at top performance.”

They looked at each other, then him again, and chorused “Of course” like they practised it. Giving up, he shook his head and left for his bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   * No, the guys from Suju aren't evil here, they have very good concerns. I just needed a band that speaks their mind, and they seem to do that. 
>   * Guilds: Red Velvet - Redthorn Angels, EXO - Fortuna, Mamamoo - Peppermint Street, Monsta X - Supernova, SHINee - Casino Royale, Super Junior - Suju. Not all the guilds in the meeting, but all those named. 
>   * This should be the second-last chapter of Arc 1 before they set off to other climes. 
> 



	22. Act I: The Cost of Sacrifice

Seokmin trundled behind the others into Seoul, more asleep than not – what had happened on the river still felt as if it were draining him. It was a strange lassitude, like a current dragging deep in his mind, and he had to struggle to keep his eyes open. He blinked, tried to concentrate, and looked up at Mingyu and Wonwoo’s backs in front of him. Seungkwan was on Mingyu’s other side, talking a mile a minute now that the conference had halted, but that didn’t attract his attention.

_They’re breathing together,_ his mind sluggishly suggested. _They really are._

The subtle rise and fall of their shoulders were the same; seemingly overnight Mingyu had gone from normal breathing to something deep, something that swelled his lungs open. He breathed like a singer, dragging it down into his core, and it echoed in Wonwoo’s thinner body. There was way less heft there to disguise it. Wonwoo’s shoulders lifted and rib cage expanded to the same slow, deep rhythm as Mingyu’s.

_As if the earth breathed for them. Gods, I’m so jealous._ It had been one of the purest expressions of fraternal love he had ever seen; judging from the way Seungkwan was talking and holding onto Mingyu’s arm the younger boy thought it something else, which might have explained the slight tension between his eyes.

Yawning, Seokmin looked away before he saw something he didn’t want to see.

“Are you alright?” someone asked next to him, and he had to blink again to focus on the man at his side.

Kim Taehyung was almost the same height as he was, and dressed in impeccable robes. They were mostly black, but the subtle shimmer of mulberry silk and storm-silver elevated it to something artful, high enough in quality that he imagined the princes of old could have worn it. He didn’t know the particular armour piece, but the intricate dragon-steel sword riding on his back was well-known. The phantasmal-level Seventh Sword looked so innocent there.

“Fair warning,” Kim Taehyung said. “I won’t believe you if you say ‘yes’.”

The sentence shook Seokmin a little more awake. It wasn’t rude, but structured in such a strange way, and in a deeper voice than he had recently heard from anyone. _I wonder if he sings._ “I can’t say yes with a clean conscience,” he admitted, slowing his steps to fall a little behind the Seungkwan-Mingyu-Wonwoo trio’s noise. “To be honest, I don’t know what’s wrong, really, I’m just very tired.”

A tall figure babbled a quick apology as he nearly slammed into Seokmin from an alleyway; there was the merest glimpse of storm-blue eyes and glinting gold hair as he ran away in a trail of apologies. Seokmin, confused, blinked that way before looking at Taehyung again, who had a distressingly intent expression on his face. “I honestly don’t know,” he tried again. “My pools are filled up, it’s just…” He shrugged and sighed.

The ‘hm’ that came from Taehyung was deep enough to vibrate in his chest, and the Hwarang reached one arm out. When it came back, he had one hand around Park Jimin’s arm, hauling him closer to them. “Jiminie,” he murmured. “Look at Seokmin- _ssi_.”

Seokmin blinked and looked down at Park Jimin, who was clad in sage and blue and subdued moody purples, creating an effect his mind didn’t want to lock on properly. He wanted to fidget under the assassin’s glance, but bore it as stolidly as he could.

Park Jimin only needed a couple of moments to look at him before he tilted his head. “You’re right, Tae-Tae.” Just that, then he scooted back to the head of the straggling queue to join what looked like an impromptu dance-off that included a lot of arm-flapping.

Seokmin shot a questioning look at Kim Taehyung, who had paused to appreciate a comb an artisan had on sale. It was pure whim that prompted him to buy it for the Hwarang, and seconds later it glittered the subdued black of onyx in the elaborate ponytail it had, raven against his raven hair. It was a mere nothing, but it perked him up a little bit. “What did he mean?”

“Did you know that Jiminie’s from Busan?” Taehyung questioned at length. “I told him that it looks like you’re adrift at sea, and if there’s one person that knows how that feels it’s Jiminie.” He ghosted through a press of people, arrived on the other side with sinuous grace that Seokmin envied. “You should guard your heart’s strength, Seokjin- _ssi_ ; it’s not as strong as always and there is a treacherous ocean in it.”

The words seemed to have a crushing weight, slowing Seokmin before he could respond. _What kind of person even says that? Does he think… is he real?_ He inhaled, ready to snarl or cry – he didn’t know which – when Kim Taehyung skipped off to go and join the arm-flapping brigade, raven comb suddenly a-twinkle in the afternoon sunlight. Defeated, half-embarrassed, Seokmin’s mouth slammed shut and he looked away, trying not to cry.

Five hours of shopping and preparing for their trip didn’t bring surcease. The more he thought about it more Kim Taehyung’s words irritated him. He returned to the rooms the Espiyas team had granted them with lips plied into a thin frown, headache throbbing in his temples. There were undercurrents in the team too, and he felt so happy to retreat to his room that the tears that had been lying inside him nearly crested over his cheeks. Slipping underneath the blankets felt like coming home. He felt tired enough to sleep forever.

It wasn’t to be.

Lips bubbling over with water found his ear as he became conscious in the dream, tucking into a bitter curve as they kissed sweetly at the shell.

_Beloved._

His hand spasmed on the railing of the promenade he stood on, and he stoically looked at the ocean stretching as far as the eye could see. It was dark grey steel, rough and tormented by a storm of note. The arms that slipped around his waist kept him solid in his stance, but he didn’t feel safe in them. Not anymore. Not when the sea murmured secrets in his ears with lips that tasted of lightning-struck water.

_Beloved._

The voice in his mind shifted now, became something like petulant regret. It hovered right on the edge of a deep alto, but there were undertones there, memories of Jisoo whispering that spell that had turned his heart upside-down. The sky darkened to the sparkle of sullen sunlight on steel, and the necklace around his neck sagged heavily, golden gleam dull. He wanted to sing the sea still, but when he opened his mouth nothing would come forth. It felt as if the arms around him were contracting too much, stifling his lungs.

He jerked, felt his legs move, and half-fell out of the dream to thrash around to his other side. He curled up there, sheltering into the small hollow, and prayed that he didn’t fall into that dream again.

He did, again and again, and finally woke with a jerk when it felt as if the arms pinched in so tight he couldn’t breathe. Shuddering, he sat up straight in his bed and scrubbed at his face, pinching his eyes tightly shut as he rubbed sea-water off his lips. His throat contracted, but he breathed deep like Mingyu had done, and the tightness in his throat went as he slowly crawled his way from the dream to being fully away. Giving sleep up as a bad idea, he shuffled the blankets off to the side, pulled on a pair of pants and made his way into the cool stretches of corridor.

Seoul had finally fallen asleep, it seemed. He found no one out and about, not until he made his way into a small garden and found a reed-thin form there, lounging against a pillar and watching the moon through thin veils of a light rain.

Xu Minghao wasn’t someone he knew very well. He gave an appearance of delicacy – Seokmin could swear his thighs were at least half again as big – but there wasn’t a sense of weakness to go with the delicacy.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he mumbled as he settled next to him.

Minghao’s gaze flicked to him before he held a finger up to his lips, motioning for silence.

Baffled, Seokmin fell quiet. It took a few moments before he could hear it, the strings of some instrument being plucked. Whoever played it was very skilful and it was not a song he had heard from bards before. The tones were very scattered and seemed disjointed in the beginning, but as more notes came, he felt the sad sweetness rill down his spine.

“It’s a song about plum blossoms,” Minghao said at length. “He only plays when he’s sad.”

“Who is it?”

“Jun- _ge_.”

Seokmin blinked. The image of carefree, laughing Jun- _hyung_ didn’t fit the sad music at all. “I didn’t know he could play,” he whispered. “He’s never talked about it? Or shown us?”

Minghao moved from the pillar to sit down on the raised platform surrounding the inner courtyard, uncaring that it exposed his knees to the rain. “You look very sad tonight,” he said, dodging the topic. “Did you have a bad dream?”

Seokmin frowned, baffled and irritated. “Is it written on my forehead?” he asked sourly. “If it’s not you, it’s some half-stranger going on about oceans.”

The rain’s white-noise drops meshed for a long time with the playing before Minghao answered. “Jisoo- _hyung_ was looking for you earlier. I think he wanted to apologise.”

“You’re just like your character, huh? Less straight answers, more an ambush with another topic.”

Minghao’s shoulders slowly lifted and fell. “Your face is very easy to read. You’re a very open person. It’s not written on your forehead. It’s a good thing you’re not a front-line fighter, your expression would telegraph all of your movements. That, and I can feel that you’re sad. You’re broadcasting.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“You’re broadcasting,” Minghao said irritably. “Your emotions are literally like a cloud around you. Since you received that medallion it’s been like that. Most bards are projective empaths in the game, it’s how some statuses get transferred, but you’re taking it to another level entirely. Honestly, do you even know why you’re sad? Shouldn’t you be angry? You got used, right? You know that, right?”

Right there, in the softness of the night, Seokmin didn’t know what to say. Seungkwan would have blustered loudly. Jeonghan would have torn Minghao apart with a few well-chosen words. He felt his hands shake and clamped down on the platform’s edge as Minghao’s words slapped him through the face.

_Did I get used? Should I be getting angry rather than sad? Have I been wearing it so bluntly on my face that even strangers could see?_

The sea inside him roared, threatened to burst out of control, prompting him to stand. For a moment his tongue felt thick with the need to attack back, to let the thin little dipshit have it. He felt as if he teetered on the edge of an abyss, and he took a breath to regain his equilibrium.

One breath. Two.

_No. This is not what you are, Lee Seokmin. You can’t let this win._

Pushed, he finally listened to the roaring inside him instead of ignoring it or shying away, and understanding dawned between one breath and the next.

Very slowly he breathed in a third time, then out. Clarity returned to him and he straightened his shoulders, stepping back from the irritated lunge at Minghao. “I didn’t get used,” he said clearly. “What happened there wasn’t about being used. I won’t exchange sadness for anger, and I’ll definitely not let the sadness win. Thank you for telling me.” He gave one step back, then turned to leave for his room.

* * *

Minghao stared at Seokmin as he walked away, shoulders out of their slump, before he closed his eyes and sighed. It was only when he felt the feather-light step of someone close to him that he opened them again; by that time Jun had advanced enough that he could see rain spotting the wisps of his eyelashes.

“That was dangerous, Xiao Hao,” Jun said softly, crossing arms behind his back. “You could have made an enemy, mocking him like that at the end. Lucky for you it turned out this way.”

Minghao’s brows knit together before he shrugged, looking away. “His heart is very strong. He just needed a little push to get it back under his control and none of the rest of you seemed to want to do it.” He stared thoughtfully at the moon. “Doesn’t it seem that the moon looks brighter tonight, as if it’s closer than it should be?”

Jun didn’t take the bait. Instead, leaning forward, he reached to touch Minghao’s hair, then his shoulder, before he got a twist of his shirt in his hands and slowly pulled him closer by it. “Thank you for what you did for him,” he said smoothly, coldly. He leant in, enough to place his lips close to Minghao’s ear, enough to smell the cool, complicated scent of bergamot and lavender from the soap he used. “But don’t do it ever again. If you crush Lee Seokmin’s heart, Xiao Hao, I might just forget who I am and remember what I was.”

He smiled, sensing more than feeling the nervous bob of adam’s apple as Minghao swallowed, and smoothly pulled back. “Be a good boy, hm?”

Minghao swallowed for a second time as Wen Junhui walked away from him, body barely strong enough to keep upright for long enough to wait for him to truly leave. His breath hitched as Jun’s footsteps sounded deeper into the building and his body collapsed against the wooden pillar, shivering and shaking from the mixture of relief and envy coiling in his stomach.

* * *

“Seokmin-ah.”

It really was just a whisper of sound as Seokmin neared his room. Then, like something appearing from mist, Jisoo’s features resolved out of shadows. His fox-fey face looked particularly finely carved in the too-bright moonlight, and if it wasn’t for the tiny frown between his brows Seokmin would have thought him a statue.

_Damn it. Is no one asleep tonight?_

He stared at lips that he had felt against his cheeks, bubbling with a watery language that spilled in a thick stream. He had been enchanted until he had been afraid, and then he had been sad.

And then.

And then he had lost himself in the ocean.

Seokmin fought down a shudder. Despite standing strong against Minghao, despite deciding that he was Lee Seokmin and would claw back his sunshine, seeing Hong Jisoo frightened him and made him sad, like a Gordian tangle of emotions. “Jisoo- _hyung_ ,” he said hesitantly, edging a little sideways. “You’re up late.”

“So are you.” Jisoo’s lips twitched with some mirth before his shoulders straightened. “I’m glad you are. I wanted to apologise about what happened. I have to the others, but I wanted a word with you especially.”

The ocean in his heart roared, reminding him of the lesson learnt only moments earlier, and exactly whose heart he had found it in. Beyond that, the soft rain of plucked notes still falling ambivalently.

“Jisoo- _hyung_ , you don’t have to…”

“I scared you,” Jisoo interrupted. “I didn’t expect you to come with me to the other side of the gate. I didn’t… I drew too deeply. I am sorrier than I can say. I was not thinking, I was frightened for Wonwoo-yah and Mingyu-yah, and I…”

_He thinks I’m like this because I’m scared?_

Seokmin straightened and shook his head. A tiny part of his mind noted that he was slightly taller than Jisoo and broader too, though the man’s shoulders were very straight and wide under his robes. “ _Hyung_ ,” he said softly. “ _Hyung_ , it’s not what was on the other side of the gate. That was scary, but that wasn’t it.” He dared a wobbly smile. “It was what was inside you, _hyung_. It’s your heart. Can’t you hear it howling at you? I’m sad for you, _hyung_ , and tired. Aren’t you tired of being sad?”

Jisoo stared up at him. He didn’t breathe for the longest time, but when it came it was just a little hitched noise before he collapsed forward.

Seokmin caught him and wrapped arms around his shaking shoulders as Hong Jisoo finally allowed himself to grieve properly. He cried on and on, great ugly sobs that wet Seokmin’s robes’ shoulder to the skin even as he curled desperate hands into the soft fabric. Jisoo’s raven hair glimmered in the subdued light, and it pulled another memory to the fore.

_How had Kim Taehyung’s eyes seen this all? How deep could he look, to have divined the cause of my distress that acutely?_

“It’s okay,” Seokmin whispered into his hair as he held him more tightly. “It’s okay, I understand. I really understand. I don’t blame you. I’ve never blamed you. It’s natural to feel sad, _hyung_ , but it shouldn’t be anger, okay? Don’t let grief become something else.”

Jisoo jerked in his arms, crying louder.

The pendant at his throat pulsed once, soft and content and warm, and the noise in his heart finally ceased. It had taken Minghao’s sharp words to give him control back; Jisoo’s tears would heal the rest of it, and they could walk forward as comrades once more.

Behind him the last notes of that stringed instrument faded away, and he suddenly looked forward to their journey.

* * *

* * *

Seungkwan woke with a start, gasping from the pain of the dream he had been in. His tongue felt swollen in his mouth, aching just a little as if something inflamed it.

_Remember,_ the faint voice in his mind murmured. In his mind’s eye, tall mountains like fingers thrusting into the sky, and fog drowning everything in a ghostly white. A bird seemed to fall through it, having leapt into the sky, but turned into flapping robes around a man’s shape, falling and falling and falling endlessly.

_Remember._

He promptly forgot it five seconds later, when he turned to snuggle into Mingyu’s heat. Tomorrow would be a long day and he desperately needed more sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   * So many pieces of music this time, but mainly these three: Billie Eilish's [everything i wanted](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qCTMq7xvdXU), Jarred James' [1000x](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l3FV7pnTNeo) and the [guqin music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MvxbfpuccXo) Jun played. 
>   * This chapter is heavily Seokmin-centric because his was the last part I had to wrap up before I felt comfortable ending this arc. It also involved Jisoo, which had to get to the point where he'd let himself grieve rather than feel anger. 
>   * Whilst I was writing this I kept on wondering 'Is this how guys resolve their issues?' and I'm pretty sure the answer is no, but this made the most sense to me and it's what my heart wanted to write. I hope that you can understand. 
>   * Minghao was somewhat mean to Seokmin, but that was because he wanted to shock him into opening his eyes; as he observed no one else was doing it, and it was a risk. 
>   * There are some signs and portents in here. 
>   * Although it is not explained in the chapter what happens, Kim Taehyung did indeed read Seokmin's emotions, though I'll leave spoiling the method off for later. 
>   * Some hinting at relationships, though still not very much. 
>   * Next arc, Heaven Lake and China. Please let me know what you thought of the story so far, and how the chapter below made you feel. 
>   * Special thanks to my writing chat group for keeping me motivated and going on this. I love all of you! 
> 



	23. Arc I: Endings and Beginnings

The streets of Seoul were loud even in the game. There were hawkers and Landers, Adventurers and even the odd pet or summon walking at their masters’ side. The distant din crashed against the gates of Gyeongbokgung, somewhat defeated, but ever-insistent. Where Seungkwan stood in the courtyard, giving his griffin little pre-flight treats, he could still hear it. The white-noise of it soothed the tense muscles at the base of his neck.

“Are you ready, _Kkoch_?” he murmured to the proud figure, leaning in to press his forehead close to the nares of the wicked yellow beak. He laughed softly as she opened her beak a little to nibble at his hair, beak-tip gently raking it into furrows, and leant back to haul her treat for the morning closer. “Good girl,” he cooed, tossing the rabbit carcass up into the air; seconds later as she snapped it out of the air he ducked the accidental bits of gore, and cast a spell to clean his hands before he went to check on the pack saddle attached to the trunk of her body.

“That’s good,” someone mentioned at his side, voice sounding approving. “It’s good that you check, but if you hitch the chest-strap through twice and then around, it normally gives the saddle more stability and doesn’t rock back into their wings as much.”

Seungkwan jerked and glanced up at the man standing a little bit away from him. He seemed older, not like most of the teens and twenty-sometimes caught on the game. His clothes were very simple, dark faded greens and blues and dusty browns that blended together oddly well. On his hip, slung simply crosswise and only sheathed by a length of leather, was a sword that looked more like a machete than anything else. Well-used certainly. “Thank you?” he said hesitantly; when he moved to adjust the strap and snug it through twice before he cinched it his girl gave a little approving chirrup, adjusting with a shiver of massively strong shoulders.

“Oh!” he said, seeing the way the pack hitched forward just a tad more, stopping the edges of the saddle from edging back into the powerful wings as much.

The stranger smiled at him and nodded at Kkoch. “May I?”

Still hesitant, Seungkwan sheltered a little into the curve of her body but nodded, and watched intently as the stranger looked his griffin over. He checked her wings, getting them extended with a tongue-click to check leading edge feathers, then the smooth slope of her powerful haunches and finally the talons on her front feet. “You should shorten these just a little,” the man recommended. “Less than half an inch; normally they groom themselves very well, but if you file them back just a tad and paint them with fisher’s glue they can withstand fights and landings better.”

Seungkwan stared with wide open eyes. The man’s movements were so gentle but sure, and he had no problems getting _Kkoch_ to respond to him. “Wah,” he said after a moment, scooting a little from his griffin’s protection. “Really?”

The man nodded to him and smacked _Kkoch_ on the left back haunch, earning him a pleased tail-swat and that leg held in the air so he could inspect the retractable claws. “Eagles’ claws can’t retract, so they’re not constantly smoothed like these,” he explained quietly. “But overall she’s a beauty, you’re taking very good care of her.” He made a high little chirrup in the back of his throat, which earned him a sideways dance before he straightened. “Even though you’ve been pushing them hard. You’ve been riding double for a while, right?”

“How did you know?” Seungkwan asked, patently amazed. “Is she telling you somehow?”

The man straightened and laughed, shaking his head. “No, I’m one of the guides sent to get you across the border into North Korea,” he said easily. A flick of his hand had his menu manifest and he spun it around to face Seungkwan.

_Name: Yunho the Hunter_

_Class: Summoner – Beast Lord_

_Subclass: Special – Scout_

_Guild: Beast Gods_

Seungkwan blinked and bowed, hands folded before him. “Ah, I’m Boo Seungkwan!” he said. “Pleased to meet you, Yunho _-ssi_! Wah, I’ve not seen anyone with the scout sub-class before, I didn’t even think it was in the game?”

Yunho laughed at his eagerness. “It’s not,” he explained kindly. “At least not in the game proper. MAX and I were surprised when it changed over as well. It seems this world has hidden possibilities after all.” He ran his hands along _Kkoch_ ’s flank again. “You’re going to want to up her feed by a quarter. She’s working harder, and whilst she’s mainly magical she still needs the nutrition whilst she’s here.” He made another little clicky sound in his throat. “Isn’t that right, beautiful girl? Hm?”

_Kkoch_ danced again; Seungkwan was about to comment when others streamed into the smaller courtyard as well, accompanied by GD _-ssi_ and a man that nodded to Yunho. “Thank you, Yunho _-ssi_ ,” he managed to mutter out before everything descended into chaotic goodbyes. It gave him time to sneak _Kkoch_ another vole before he straightened; when he did the were-cat assassin from Mikrokosmos was at his side and he bowed again.

Jimin smiled at him, little cat-ears twitching; last night he had showed them he could twitch both sets of ears, which had made Seungkwan laugh even through his tiredness.

“Seungkwanie,” he said happily in his lazy drawl. “Don’t be a stranger, alright? I’m going to count on you to come back safely so we can destroy the others at charades again.” He reached out to shake his hand, leaving a small, heavy pouch behind. “These are some of Yoongi- _hyung_ ’s newest work, so be careful how you throw them, alright? Blue for good, red for bad!” His voice softened and he reached to card a lock of Seungkwan’s hair in behind his ear. “Don’t be afraid,” he said very softly. “You are strong, Boo Seungkwan. Just remember that.”

Seungkwan felt like tearing up; instead he reached to hug his new acquaintance firmly. As he did so he saw the _hyungdeul_ chatting together with the other leaders; Yoongi- _hyung_ was speaking to Jihoon intently about something, and the last of the maknae line was conversing very quietly with Hansol, one hand on his shoulders and looking very serious.

He brightened as he caught an accidental smile from Mingyu- _hyung_ ; it reminded him of the warmth last night as they had curled together. “ _Hyung_ ,” he said as he drew back. “ _Hyung_ , do you think it’ll be alright?”

Jimin smiled at him. “Yes,” he said restfully, assured. “Don’t grow up too much out there. I want my adorable hoobae back.” He paused, looking over his shoulder as the noise increased, and stepped back. “Time to get ready,” he said easily. “Goodbye, _bogsung-a_.”

Seungkwan blushed as he turned to scramble into the saddle; it felt different with packs back there and not a new body. “Goodbye, Jiminie- _hyung_ ,” he said earnestly.

One click and _Kkoch_ started running, then leapt into the air with a mighty shrug of her haunches and a huge snap of her wings; they were airborne, and heading into their newest adventure.

* * *

The two Beast Gods members led them onward, flying on their own griffins. One hour was enough to pass Goyang, then Gimpo; compared to the real life version of the area, there were no demarcation lines, no insane military presence to get through. Instead, the moment they passed over there was merely a light shiver and MAX- _hyung_ shouting back that they had passed into North Korea. The line of griffins altered its course, and soon they were over the glittering sea, keeping along the coast until the tiny bulk of On-dong island came just as the fourth hour struck and their griffins began flagging.

Landing on the beach was easy, but eerie; save for impeccably rendered surroundings there didn’t seem to be any animals, nor even insects; the giffins seemed glad to leave to wherever they lived when they got everything and the packs off.

“Come closer,” Yunho said, and laid out a map on the sand they all clustered around. “We’ve not done much exploring up here, just the occasional foray. If it sticks true to the to the actual coastline you’ll be able to circle around from here to Chodo, then into the bay at Nampo and then up the left fork of the river to Pyongyang.”

“Is everything as empty as here?” Chan asked quietly, body utterly still to support Woozi leaning against him. “I can’t hear any animals or anything.”

Yunho shook his head. “There are animals up there, along with plenty of monsters and Landers. We’ve only explored up to Kumchon, but it was an exciting time.”

“Almost lost my leg to a height-measuring snake,” MAX grunted out sourly. “I’m guessing it’s because the developers didn’t think to flesh out this tiny spit of land. Go on, _hyung_.”

Yunho nodded. “You can take a break there, restock if you can, but from there you’re on your own. You’ll either have to find land transport up to Baekdusan, or use your griffins in relays. It’s dangerous country going on what we’ve discovered so far. If it hadn’t been for the fact that it’d add too much time to your journey, I’d say go back, go to Goseong and then up along the coast to Chongjin before going cross-country to Baekdusan.”

“That and the monsters in those waters. We spotted a kraken so huge you’d not believe it,” MAX added.

Minghao, silent until now, leant in to check the map. “We go further up north, find Donggang and go up Yalu river?” he suggested. “We should be able to follow river all the way up to Changbai… here?”

MAX frowned thoughtfully. “You said you have aquatic mounts?” he finally said. “It might be an option. Upstream, but at least easier to row than walk. We have never been that far north. You know the country?”

Minghao shrugged. “I was there once on a class trip?” He grimaced. “Not well, but enough to know the scenery there.”

Seungcheol tapped his fingers on Jisoo’s shoulder, a thoughtful gesture. “It might be faster that way,” he finally judged. “And it’ll skip the majority of the country. I have no idea how to construct a boat through.”

Yunho lifted his head to grin at him, and reached into a pack. “I guess now’s a good time to mention this as well; we can lecture you about the dangers as we explain boat building and watch you construct one here.” His hand emerged with a bunch of notes, and his smile turned gleaming. “Get out those axes, boys.”

The day devolved into a hyper-critical lesson on constructing rafts, as neither of the pair judged them competent to work an actual boat out of the wood on the island. They showed them how to double-layer the logs, how to twine enough rope from strips of bark and tough beach-grass to tie everything together, how to make it balance and _keep_ it balanced, and throughout it all, they lectured them on survival. What to drink and eat if they were out of food; Mingyu was the star of _that_ class with his knowledge of non-animal protein and the roots and tubers his cooking club had talked about.

They took the raft apart, put it back together, and as sunset stained the evening sky salmon-pink and orange in a visceral masterpiece of colours, the two sat back on their haunches.

“Above all,” Yunho said, voice slightly husky from talking too much and almost at the end of his little book. “Whichever fairy circle you meet, do _not_ take it, do not cross it, do not even glance longingly at it. All the schedules of transport went tits-up when the Cataclysm happened, and we’ve not managed to nail the ones down in South Korea, never mind the ones up here in the wilderness. Sometimes if you’re right at midnight, you’ll catch a glimpse of your destination but mostly it’s utterly random. You might end up where you want to be, you might end up on the other side of the world.”

“That dangerous?” Hansol asked softly. “I had to struggle through the leaps on the Fairy’s Fair, that was timed or it dumped you with the monsters below.”

MAX managed a faint smile. “You made that?” he asked curiously.

“Jeonghanie- _hyung_ took me through,” Hansol said happily. “He had the timing down pat.”

Jeonghan flushed faintly in the light of the fire, pausing in the length of rope he had been twining with reddened hands. “The daily rewards were good,” he defended himself. “Steady XP, and a cache of materials that sometimes included phantasmal drops.”

MAX nodded approvingly. “You’re a Hwarang, yes? Good reflexes then, I can see why. Don’t do that with the circles now. We lost the _hyungdeul_ that way; Jaejoong- _hyung_ came out in Geumsan-gun and I’m not sure where Xia- _hyung_ is right now. He’s not been able to get word back to us.”

Jisoo grimaced. “We’ll watch out.”

Yunho stood and dusted himself off, then prosaically kicked sand into the little fire they had made. “Here,” he said, pressing the small thick book on Seungcheol, then hauling out another slimmer one. “This is all we have to help you, but we want to do our little bit for your grand quest as well. The notes will remind you of what we said today, and when you return we expect your book back. Map as much as you can for us.”

Seungcheol nodded gravely as he straightened as well; hands worked rough with twine took the books; he kept the one scribbled full and gave the others to Seungkwan. “ _Hyung_ ,” he said softly. “Thank you.” Reaching out, he clasped his hand around Yunho’s forearm, then MAX’s. “Pray to the gods for us, right?”

Yunho nodded and stepped back before turning. The two Beast Gods wandered off into the distance, leaving thirteen young men clustered on the beach behind him as they summoned their griffins and flew off.

“We’ll make it,” Seokmin said into the silence that came. “We’ll definitely make it back and repay them.” Reaching out to circle his arm around Soonyoung’s shoulders, his smile was very bright in the fading light. “Back to them and back to our families.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   * And here we are at the beginning of Arc 2 and the journey to Baekdusan and the sage living there. 
>   * The two scouts from the Beast Gods are, of course, the two members of TVXQ. Yunho is the closest to a ranger I could get, and MAX is a gladiator swashbuckler. 
>   * Kraken, for those that don't know, are monstrously huge sea octopi. In this world, sea travel is made impossible by boss-level monsters in the seas as mentioned before; SEVENTEEN found a workaround for that in the last dungeon they completed. 
>   * The Fairy's Fair is a jumping puzzle a la Guild Wars 2, which depend on going through a series of fairy transport rings based on both fast, accurate timing and the inherent randomness of the rings themselves. An S-class jumping puzzle; Jeonghan is good at it because he's fast and agile. 
> 



	24. Act II: The Flower Coast

Chan had never been one to pay attention to North Korea beyond the history everyone had to learn. Japan had been far more interesting to him growing up, to the point where he had talked his parents around to letting him join a Japanese club and learning kendo. Sometimes if he thought back hard enough he could remember going through his first _kakari-geiko_ , to competitions, all the way back to his first strike. He could remember his father’s face at his first competition, barely past 13 and just earning his first kyu grade, but…

He squinted against the deep blue of the sky, trying to force the memory. Try as he might, he could not remember the name of the street the club had been on, and it pained him.

He shook his head for clarity and looked forward. It had shocked him to realise how small Korea was. It seemed so immediate in his mind sometimes, but it was smaller than Japan, and that was saying something. Even though the griffins were flying low and slow, they were already around the horn on the southern end, making good time up towards the slight jut that the maps in the small book called Monggum-do. There hadn’t been signs of life so far, and they had stayed out of the forest, but there had been a small diamond-shaped note there that… well, he couldn’t quite remember what that meant either. He’d look tonight.

::Settlement ahead, three kilos:: Jun’s voice in their mental link was strong. ::Fishing village of some sort, I can see people moving around and smoke from fires.::

::We’ll go in until one kilo. Down, and only a scouting party ahead. Jun, Hansol and … ah…::

Chan leapt on the chance. ::Me please? We’ll make a good fighting party.:: And he’d be able to get out from underneath his brother’s gimlet eye.

::And Chan.:: Seungcheol’s agreement was loud enough to silence all complaints.

Excited now, Dino peeked over his shoulder at Seokmin, wiggled his eyebrows and looked forward again, feeling the need to move stop crawling so badly along his spine.

They landed and he dismissed his griffin, taking off the packs that had been on him before checking his things. Jittering, he waited until Jun and Hansol nodded before the three of them set off north along the coastline. There was no path, but pretty soon they had ascended from the beach to a little ridge, and wandered along it without the crunch-crunch-crunch of beach sand beneath their boots.

Flowering trees accompanied the walk, beautifully in bloom. It looked like the entire line before the forest was one long orchard; when Hansol reached up to pluck one of the apples that somehow shared time with the blossoms it split off easily in his hand, heavy and large and pristinely red.

“Wow,” Chan muttered, clustering close. “It looks like those fruit that they sell for ridiculous prices around holidays. Ne, Jun- _hyung_ , do they have them in China as well?”

Jun grinned down at him. “Fruit? Sometimes, if we’re lucky.”

Chan pulled a face. “ _Hyung_ , you know what I mean…”

Jun laughed as he took the apple from Hansol, and made a small knife appear from nowhere to begin cutting slices as they walked on. “We have them too. Red fruit are very auspicious around New Year, but they’re not much less expensive than in Seoul. Seoul has the costliest luxury fruit I’ve ever seen, and that’s with those funny square watermelons in Japan.”

The first slice went to Hansol, who popped it into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. “Not poisoned,” he said after a while. “Nice.”

When it came to Chan’s turn to get a slice he agreed. It was very firm and crisp, but very sweet as well, with just the slightest edge of tartness to save it. They walked like that, eating apples, until they crested the last hill in their way and looked own at the small settlement beyond. It looked small but very neat, houses spread far apart. There was a significant docks section, with the boats likely out to sea, but the town itself had more of the fruit trees in it, and people were running around hanging up what looked like lanterns and streamers. The children were out in the fields, running and collecting apples, and their shrieks of fun sounded to the hill. To Chan it looked like every small settlement town he had ever seen on this server, save the architecture being a little different. There were one or two guards dawdling around, but they seemed more interested in the tables being put out than any serious guarding duties.

“I wonder if they speak the same language as we do,” he wondered curiously. “And if they’d welcome some strangers.”

Hansol sank down on his haunches, fingers carding gently through the long, emerald grass beside the rough path. “They should,” he speculated. “A couple of my friends once guested on this server and they had no difficulties. The game engine translates. Even if it doesn’t, they’re so far south hopefully the language hasn’t shifted a lot.” He paused. “It looks like some kind of festival, I wonder what they’re celebrating here.”

Jun stared down at the village with curious eyes, squinting a little. He blinked, lifted a hand to count on his fingers and grinned. “I think it is actually New Year? If I’ve counted the days right, it’s about that long.”

Chan nibbled on his lip. “The Year of the Rat, right?” he asked.

“Good for new beginnings,” Hansol added.

Licking the last of the apple juice off his fingers, Jun jerked his chin towards the village. “Let’s go get that new beginning then.”

* * *

Seokmin giggled as a host of kids ran around them as the group headed towards the village. The three scouts had come back an hour earlier, laden down with _jeon_ and invitations; the headman of the village had invited them all to join in their festivities, and there were happy faces wherever they looked. Now, ambling into the village amidst the apple blossoms and the children, he smelled the food cooking and felt the happiest he had felt in a long time.

Since that night in Seoul there was calm between Jisoo and himself; he saw the elder looking at him every so often, as if to assure himself that Seokmin was alright, and it always made him feel better to spot. Flush in that happiness, and happy with the brine of the sea in his nostrils, he smiled as he saw Seungcheol haul a stumbling little girl up on his hip, carrying her all the way back to the village before handing her over to her mother, who merely shook her head.

The headman of the village sat them down at one of the long tables already set in the midst of the village underneath a particularly old apple tree. Seconds later bowls of food and platters of fruit started appearing, a largesse that reminded him that it had been lunchtime a few hours ago.

Somehow, it just made the day a little funnier to see all the young ladies of the village lined up to giggle at Jeonghan and Mingyu, their two beauties. 

“Honoured guests,” the headman began. “Welcome to our village. Your visit is auspicious on this, the day of the Dragon Festival! We so seldomly receive guests, but you’re welcome indeed. The festival itself only starts at dusk, but until then we drink and feast!”

Across the table from him, Seungcheol stood and bowed with great respect. “It is our luck that we came across your lovely village,” he said calmly. “These are unfamiliar lands to us, and we did not think to receive such a welcome here. Thank you for letting us share your food and drink.”

A few more speeches followed, but soon enough the villagers rustled and reached for their chopsticks; Seokmin spared no time in following their example. He tore the extra _jeon_ on his plate up with his chopsticks, popped the scallion-rich shreds in his mouth and closed his eyes at the salty, briny taste of it. Across from him, predictably in front of the largest bowl of kimchi, Soonyoung- _hyung_ was happily exclaiming, and Seokmin laughed internally.

_Their mistake to invite us for the festival. They’ve clearly not seen anyone eat like us._

Hours later, full and torpid like a snake, he was forced to admit defeat. The villagers had delighted in them eating, with the old grannies cooing about their healthy eating and everyone pressing food on them. It almost felt painful to move, so he hesitated when Minghao offered to wander down to the harbour with him.

“Up,” their assassin grinned, tugging him onwards. “Come on, we go talk to the water, the walk will do you good.”

He stood and wandered off, leaving some to talk to the villagers and some to nap under the apple trees. Inhaling deeply, he closed his eyes for a moment and enjoyed the purity of the moment.

They wandered down to the docks, made of hill bamboo neatly dressed and constructed, augmented with fat logs of wood that would have taken thirty people to move. The path led them on and on, until they stood on the far sea-wall and looked out towards a brown-green smear on the horizon. “Island?” he murmured to his companion. “I thought there was one on the horizon when we came in to land.”

Minghao shrugged, slowly stretching from side to side to limber himself up after the meal. “I think I owe you an apology,” he said instead. “For the other night. I could have done differently.”

Seokmin’s mouth furled into a bit of a pout as he thought. He didn’t want to ruin the day with examinations of past actions, so he merely shrugged. “Bygones?” he offered. “We all have our reasons for why we do things. Next time though…”

“There won’t be a next time,” Minghao said idly. “You strong man. You understand now.”

Seokmin looked sideways at Minghao and managed a smile. “To new beginnings, right?”

Minghao nodded soberly. “We walk together for long time ok?”

Seokmin felt the fumble of fingers at his hand and took Minghao’s offered kindness; squeezing the fingers once, he let them go free as he stepped forward to sing. With the sea softly singing along with him, he finally sang as he never had before.

It felt good not to doubt himself anymore, and felt even better to pull the sweet apple-scented air deep into his lungs and let out the true power of his voice. The shell at his throat glowed softly golden to reflect the joy in his heart, but did nothing beyond that.

It was the perfect afternoon.

* * *

Jihoon slowly woke from his nap at the plop of something on his cheek. He flinched, reached to wipe it off and felt something wet. It was a struggle to open his eyes. Dusk sunlight filtered practically straight into his eyes, low and salmon-coloured. He blinked against the brightness and fought to sit up, limbs slow to respond. He was still under the tree, but as he looked up he saw what had changed. The blossoms on the tree were fluttering and shivering, shedding pale drops of nectar to rain onto the ground below. It was one of the golden drips of liquid that had woken him, and a few more fell as he sat up properly.

They trickled through his hair, down the side of his nose and slipped into his mouth as he licked his lips clean. There was nothing to describe their taste in any language he knew: their sweetness transcended his understanding of the term, approaching divine limits.

The others were still asleep around him and the village was very quiet and still. There were no villagers anymore, just their scattered forms here and there. Out of recent habit he checked Chan, smiling to find him curled up against Soonyoung where they had had a thigh-wrestling contest. He frowned to find Minghao and Seokmin gone as he counted heads, but struggled up to his feet, still torpid and full. Behind him the blossoms shivered and danced still; there was a high giggle in the air he didn’t understand, but didn’t imagine either.

He yawned and stretched until his back popped, scratching his stomach before he tried to shake Jeonghan awake. Their second-oldest was a sticky carpet of drops, glazed almost like a toffee-apple, with only a patch clear where his head had lain. Beside him Seungcheol, face relaxed and rested.

Grimacing and wiping away the sticky residue that lingered, he wandered out into the main body of the square, looking down towards the docks. They were indistinct in the salmon-hued air.

“Lee Jihoon.”

The voice crackled and snapped, odd for such a resonant sound, and he turned to see a man behind him. Taller, just a bit, but clad in the same anthracite-grey robes. His eyes were even more tilted than the tiger’s, burning ember-bright in the strange sunlight. There was a sense of power around him that would have frightened Jihoon if it were not for the small, sly smile curved around his mouth.

Jihoon struggled to say the man’s name. He had known it a long time ago, _that_ he knew, but it slipped from his tongue now. Instead he just nodded.

“Don’t you know better than to stand around on the spirits’ beach, covered in ambrosia like that?” the man teased. “Why are you here and not where you ought to be?”

Jihoon struggled to understand. “This is real?” he wondered. “I thought I was still in a dream.”

The man laughed at him. Irritatingly, it was Soonyoung’s chuckle, as if he had stitched himself together out of experiences and memories in Jihoon’s head. “No,” he disagreed, and turned Jihoon around with strong fingers on his shoulders. “Look out there.”

Jihoon looked and _looked_ , eyes stung by the rosy sunlight. IT took a moment before he saw what the man meant; there, swimming through the air like a serpent, came a dragon bigger than he had ever seen before, even the one like the Han.

“This is a cursed beach, Lee Jihoon,” the man whispered in his ear. “Each year, the dragon comes here to feast on the flower spirits that grow along this stretch of coast. They strip it down to bare trees and houses, and it takes a year before the area recovers. The villagers try to make sacrifices to them; sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn’t. This year… well, I bet the villagers were glad not to have to sacrifice one of their number. Lucky for them you came wandering around.”

Jihoon shivered in his grasp, filled with fear and anger and protectiveness. “We’re in trouble,” he said through his teeth, and heard the man mm-hm in agreement. “I know you.”

“You do.”

“But I know your name.”

“No,” the man said very gently. “No, you knew it, but the sound of it was taken from you.” His voice crackled and snapped as he breathed out a long, low, rough sequence of syllables; it sounded like so much distorted noise to Jihoon. “You’ll remember one day, when you most need to.”

Jihoon inhaled deeply. “I should wake them up.”

“You should, Lee Jihoon.”

He turned to wish the man farewell, but he was no longer there, having disappeared into thin air. Grimacing, reaching to kick feet and ankles, he started to shake his comrades thoroughly. “Wake up!” he snarled. “Come on, wake up!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   * Poor Chan, chafing under the watchful eye of his brother. 
>   * Kakari-geiko is a short, intense, attack practice which teaches continuous alertness and readiness to attack, as well as building spirit and stamina. 
>   * Turns out Korea is smaller than I thought. 
>   * Luxury fruit is a Thing in Korea and Japan, and apparently China too, especially red fruit around the Lunar New Year. 
>   * Happy Year of the Rat! 
>   * Minghao does have a heart. It's just normally very well-guarded, but he did owe Seokmin an apology. 
>   * The song for the chapter, and the song Seokmin sings here, is his truly excellent [cover](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fdMS5HTQGX4) of Paul Kim's [The Road](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h_CPQPTwwLo). 
>   * Jihoon meets a mystery man. Who could it be, and what history do they have together? 
>   * Red sky at night, not such a shepherd's delight anymore with a hungry dragon looming on the horizon. 
> 



	25. Arc II: Shiva

“Why am I never the one to wake up when this kind of thing happens?” Soonyoung shouted as he scrambled back to his feet, fighting not to wipe at the sticky glaze and smear the sap even worse. “It’s always the fragile ones!”

“Excuse you!” Jihoon grunted back, clearly in no mood, as he helped Wonwoo to his feet.

“Don’t be classist, _hyung_!” Mingyu added from the side, hulking large as he wrapped an arm around Wonwoo’s waist to steady him from Jihoon’s rough pluck. “We’re as strong as you are!”

“Like hell! Have you seen my HP these days?”

Seungcheol caught the skin tightening around Jeonghan’s eyes; he wasn’t surprised at all when their (sticky?) golden-haired angel popped each in the forehead with a finger-flick. Instead, suppressing the desire to laugh at the absurdity, he spun around counting heads. “Where are Minghao and Seokmin?” he asked, brows furrowing. “If they’re…”

“ _Hyung_!” That call came from the distant curve of beach leading away from the docks; it took a moment before he could spot the two running up towards them. They were panting when they arrived, but entirely free of the sticky sap that covered everyone else. “We were asleep down there,” Seokmin hastened to explain. “There were some rocks, I think they protected us, and…”

Seungkwan cleared his throat nervously. “Um, that dragon is coming closer awfully fast,” he interrupted. “I mean, very extremely fast, and I can’t get a reading off it. Wonwoo- _hyung_?”

Hansol frowned at the dragon. “It’s going plaid.” Seconds later, aware of their gazes, he blinked. “What?”

Wonwoo stepped forward, batting at the hands that tried to keep him stable and on his feet. “I’m fine, I’m _fine_ … you’re right, there’s no level on it. I don’t know if it’s a glitch, or if it’s deliberate, us being outside the normal game area.”

::Cheol.:: The voice was very gentle, with the peculiar lilt that meant it was on a private channel. ::I have an idea. Let me go out there.::

_Jisoo_.

Seungcheol stared at the huge form snaking towards them, lips tightening. Deep in his heart the desire to protect his pack roared. “Get ready, formation C,” he called over his shoulder, and pulled up his inventory to equip his armour and weapons. “Jisoo-ya, come with me.”

The two of them wandered down towards the docks, already in the shade from the ginormous form hurtling towards them; when he was sure they were clear even from Jun’s unwholesomely sharp elven ears, he eyebrowed his oldest friend. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” he asked sotto voce.

“That there’s no way that we’re going to be fighting a dragon like that?” Jisoo asked, squint disappearing as the shadow from the dragon fell over the village properly. “Especially not one that can destroy a whole village if he sits funny?” Shaking his head, he walked forward a little faster, determined to get to the dock before the dragon got there.

It was a close thing. Jisoo stepped foot onto the docks the second before the dragon’s closest whisker crossed land; he braced against the wind of its passage and looked up, trying to get a good eye on it but only getting a view of the underside of a pearly blue chin. He inhaled, opened his mouth and shouted up at it, waving arms to attract its attention as he lapsed into the language of the beings of Air, hoping it translated. “Great one! Excuse me, hello! Down here! May I have a word please?”

::Oh hell.:: Soonyoung sounded worried. ::Is he off on his summoning tangent again? There’s a lot more water around this time!::

Seungcheol fought a laugh. ::No, just give him a moment.::

The dragon roiled to a stop, coiling through the air until it was in a position to look down at Jisoo; the size difference between them was so large that he had to look at him crosswise, magnificent snout getting in the way. “Human.” The dragon’s voice echoed and crackled. “Are you my newest bride?” It coiled a little closer, then away, whiskers flicking through the air as it tried to snuffle at Jisoo. “You smell sweet, of the flowering honey, but I am… oh hell, hold on.”

Seungcheol watched, boggle-eyed, as the massive form contracted and turned into an elven shape, clad in costly silks and brocades. A _female_ elven shape, one that balanced easily in the air in front of Jisoo. “As you can see, I don’t need a bride.” Like this her voice was very amused, low and golden and warm.

Jisoo’s mouth tilted into a small smile. “My apologies, Ancient One, but I don’t think anyone’s in the mood to get married today.”

The dragon looked them over, from Seungcheol to Dino, and turned back to Jisoo afterwards. “I could change my mind for the tall, handsome druid?” she asked idly. “I wouldn’t mind looking at him some more.”

Laughter broke out behind them; Seungcheol could practically feel Mingyu’s cheeks and ears burn red.

“No but thank you!” their tallest member called out in a high, tight voice.

She wrinkled her nose. “Then what is it that you want? Hurry up, I need to feed and you’re between my food and myself. You're looking awfully appetizing right now.”

Seungcheol jerked, body tightening as he registered the threat.

“What?” Soonyoung got out, stomping closer to stand next to Jisoo. “You wanna go? I’ve kicked bigger dragons than you! I don’t care how pretty you are, lady!”

Jisoo reached sideways to put a hand on his shoulder. “Back off,” he hissed. “Just give me a moment!” Inhaling, he turned to face the dragon again. “You feed on the sap from the trees here, right?” he asked. “And the fruit? But the humans live here as well, and if they’re sacrificing people to you clearly they are scared of being eaten as well. Can we not maybe agree on some kind of compromise?”

The dragon, in the process of eyeballing Soonyoung, blinked at Jisoo. “What?”

“They want to live here and you want to eat here,” Jisoo explained. “But each time you eat here, I’m guessing there’s so much damage it takes them a while to get back on track. Perhaps we can arrange for a compromise or…”

“No,” she said sulkily. “I don’t need a compromise. It’s not my fault I’m trapped on that tiny island and these are the closest Spirit Trees. If I were in my real nest, I wouldn’t even be around here, not that that’s possible at the moment. Please step aside.”

Seungcheol felt a queasy feeling settle in his stomach. “Perhaps you could tell us the situation and we’ll see if we can help?” he suggested, watching as the ‘dragon’ wandered forward past him.

“Mhm, I can spare an hour or so,” she agreed, going to link arms with Mingyu and leaning into him. “You smell wonderful,” she said happily, rubbing her face into his shoulder. “You should really reconsider and become my bride. I can make an exception this once.”

The problem with being covered with sap, Seungcheol found out, was that your hand stuck to your face if you facepalmed hard enough.

* * *

The villagers had carefully crept back when a roaring, hungry dragon failed to eat everything in sight; the headman had apologised, bowing tremendously each time one of them looked at him oddly. It took all Jisoo’s skill to grease him into sitting down and _talking_ about things. The dragon, far from being offended at the way everyone stared (with extra glowering from Seungkwan and Wonwoo), seemed to enjoy the attention as she lounged back against Mingyu, snacking on a pile of essence-covered apples the villagers had hastily rustled up to ‘tide her over’.

“A long, long time ago in the Age of Myth, these lands were a quiet place,” she started introspectively. “I hadn’t been born yet, but the wellspring of my clan had her den on Kuwol-san not far inland from here. Other places in the world were overrun with the wonders of that age, but this was a quieter place, and so she prospered, and had many offspring to her name. She wanted nothing but to be left alone but one day a woman came to her and said ‘Lend me your strength, for you are the strongest in all the Lands. I need to make the world a safer place and will not be able to do that without your help.’”

Seokmin, big-eyed and already under the lure of the tale, bent forward. “So long ago? She must have been powerful – did she do it?”

The dragon wrinkled her nose. “Of course not. She was not an idiot. Help a stranger out for literally no reason but the goodness of their heart?” Her eyes shimmered oddly. “Who does that. No. She told her to get lost, of course. The woman went, but came back a year later. After the fifth year, my grandmother got curious and asked her why, and she explained how the People of the Land were killing the Lands with their curious technology, how the Land itself didn’t have an advocate. My grandmother sent her away again, but began to read the winds and the heavens, and was bothered to find out that the woman had spoken the truth. Daily they were creeping closer and closer to his nest. She didn’t want it to be destroyed either, so the next few times the woman came she listened more and more.”

“Finally, on the twelfth visit, she could take it no more, and said ‘If I help you, my name must be known and my lands safe. I will be the ruler of all the lands that my eye can see, so I may be assured my nest is safe.”

“The woman smiled at her and said ‘I will make sure that your name never dies.’” Pausing to take a bite of her fourth apple, the dragon sighed. “So, my grandmother agreed and gave her name so that all may know it, and half of her power, that the woman might be as powerful as her.”

Jeonghan narrowed his eyes slightly. “I’m guessing that something went wrong?”

The dragon’s laugh was mirthless. “Oh, trust me, it did. For you see, the woman took the power that my grandmother gave her and destroyed the world. She ended the Age of Myth and scattered the Landers, broke what magic my grandmother had left and made sure that everyone, _everyone_ knew her name. In your speech, the closest it would be is ‘Shiva’.”

Seokmin sat there, gaping. They had all heard the story of the rogue AI, but this spin on it clearly boggled him. “Wow. That’s… that’s so _sad_! She wanted to help!”

Across the circle of people, Chan nodded furiously, hands clenched on his _hakama_. “What a low-down, rotten, _dirty_ trick. What happened?”

The dragon licked her fingers clean. “My grandmother died,” she said simply. “Because of what she had done, the survivors wasted no time in killing as many of her children as they could, and the magic of those children infused them, returned magic after some time. The rest, including my mother, fled as far as they could for safety and swore never to trust humanoid races again. It didn’t help. So many had died that magic as a whole left our race and most fled into the elemental realms, with only a few remaining here. Most are beasts now, mindless and powerful killing machines. Others like myself… well, we’re in the minority, and we need insane amounts of magic to remain stable.”

Seungkwan sat up, snapping his fingers. “That’s why you eat here, isn’t it? The trees here are literally fountains of essence! But… but that doesn’t explain why you stay on the island, _ahjumma_ … er, ma’am… miss?” His face slowly reddened, embarrassment washing over him. “Lady?” he squeaked.

The dragon grinned at him, teeth just the slightest bit _too_ sharp for friendliness. “Lady will do. And that’s the second part of my tale. Mighty I might be, but the broken remains of my grandmother’s magic still infest our old den. I have tried time and time again to clean it, to oust the evil, but I am not strong enough. Until I can feast on the wellspring at its source again, I have to eat here, or I will die. Do you understand?”

Seungcheol, quiet until now, hummed a soft note as he straightened. “So that is the basis of your deal then?” he asked. “Cleanse the nest, and you’ll stop terrorizing the coast along here?” He tried to ignore the hopeful look in the villagers’ eyes but could not, and his ears reddened a little as he gave a sigh.

“Clean the nest,” the dragon interjected, “and not only will these good people be rid of me, but I will give you my greatest treasure to use for one year. The skies will be unlocked to you, and you will have the power to reach the highest peaks without fail. I’m told that even Adventurers can be a frail lot, especially in these times.”

Seungcheol opened his mouth, then shut it; it was Jeonghan that answered, stretching a hand to rest on his shoulder. “We’ll have to deliberate, my lady. Will you give us thirty minutes and some privacy?”

The dragon shrugged, reaching for her next apple. “Twenty,” she counter-offered, staring at the pile of apples remaining. “I suggest you get talking.”

* * *

Seven minutes later, after the quickest hustle of his life, Seungcheol sank down at the out-of-the-way spot Minghao and Seokmin had found earlier. Wiggling sideways a bit to let everyone crowd onto the tiny dock, he sank down on his haunches. “Thoughts.” Second later, as everyone began to babble and shout over each other, he held up a hand. “Stop it. We don’t have much time. One at a time, kai-bai-bo.”

A short but furious round broke out, which Chan triumphantly won. “We can’t let the villagers be eaten,” he said urgently. “I mean, they fed us, and it’s so many of them, and it’d be so sad and rude…” Pausing to shove Soonyoung’s ruffling hand away, he grimaced. “ _Hyung_!” he complained. “No. Listen. We just can’t. We’re the good guys, right? _Tenken-_ san would be so sad if he heard we didn’t do it, and mom and dad…” He broke off, shivering. “I want to look them in the eyes when we return, and not be ashamed.”

Minghao won the second round. “Why not show hands first?” he asked. “That give us idea who say go and who say help.”

Seungcheol grimaced, feeling slightly stupid that he hadn’t thought of that. “…right,” he said. “Let’s do that first. Down for no, up for yes – do we help out here?”

Seconds later, facing a round of thumbs facing up, he sighed. “Right,” he muttered. “So, the idea isn’t how we help but how we help and not get the worst out of the deal, not to mention not waste more time. Anyone?”

The circle was quiet for a moment, but eventually a hand lifted, and Seungcheol stared quizzically. Of all the people there, he hadn’t expected Hansol to chime in. “Hansol-ah?”

“We’re out of most of our really big summons and in unfamiliar territory,” their archer said. “And there’s no way that we can go up against a force that broke an entire server. But perhaps if we can persuade her to work together, we can not only make our chances of winning larger, but keep her away from here? And if she’s willing to give us a lift to the place, we might get there faster.”

It made so much sense Seungcheol just stared at him, wondering where his wits were these days.

Wonwoo leant forward. “That’s right,” he muttered. “This might be a raid-level quest, we don’t know. Far rather keep her with us, it’ll offset the lack of other Adventurers.”

Silence fell in the group as they looked at each other; Seungcheol took a deep breath in and nodded. “Alright,” he said. “Alright, let’s go and give them the news.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   * Purists of the Log Horizon game will note that I'm slightly departing from history here. 
>   * Can you imagine how loud these guys must be all talking over each other? 
>   * Soonyoung risks the guitar referring to Jihoon as frail, but here he's referring to his class. Sorcerors are inherently much frailer than monks. 
>   * It's going plaid! Kudos to anyone that catches this reference. 
> 



End file.
